HARKAWAY 


AND 

HIS     BOY 

TINKER 


BRACEBRIDGE     HEMYNG 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


- 1 

"a 


ADVENTURES  OF  YOUNG 


JACK  HARKAWAY 


AND  HIS  BOY  TINKER 


M.   A.    DONOHUE   &   CO. 


M.  A.    DONOH  UE  &.   COMPANV 

PRINTERS  AND    BINDERS 

*O7.429    DEARBORN    STREET 

CHICAGO 


//1 7 


CHAPTER  I. 

YOUNG  JACK  ON  THE   MOVE   AGAIN — HIS  PROSPECTS. 

"WHAT,  Jack,  leave  us  and  go  on  your  travels  alone?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Sir,"  said  his  father,  in  surprise;  "you  are  on  your 
dignity  about  something  I  should  think,  Jack. " 

"No,  no,  dad,"  said  young  Jack,  quickly,  "it  is  not 
that.  All  I  want  is  to  cut  out  a  path  for  myself — to  be 
self-reliant  like  my  father  before  me." 

Old  Jack  pursed  up  his  brows  and  looked  gloomy. 

"But  your  father  before  you  needed  to  be  self-reliant  ; 
he  was  poor  in  starting  life,  Jack.  You  have  no  need  to 
be  any  thing  of  the  kind,  seeing  that  I  have  all  that  is 
wanted  to  make  you  comfortable — aye,  and  precious 
comfortable  too." 

"  I  know  that,  dad,"  replied  his  son,  "  but  I  don't  lika 
the  idea  of  feeling  dependent  even  upon  you." 

"I  can't  quarrel  with  the  feeling,  Jack,"  said  his  father, 
"but  I  must  object  to  your  restlessness,  no  matter  what 
the  cause  of  it " 

"Restlessness!" 

"Yes,  that's  it." 

"  It  is  not  restlessness,  dad,  that  prompts  me  to  be  off 
on  my  own  fortunes.  The  desire  is  only  prompted  by 
the  hope  of  doing  for  myself." 

"The  fact  is,"  said  old  Jack,  shaking  his  head,  "that 
you  are  suffering,  my  boy,  from  the  old  Harkaway  dis- 
ease. " 

"What's  that?" 


LIBRARY 


4  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Restlessness,"  replied  his  father.  "But,  my  boy,  I 
know  full  well  the  inclinations  of  one  of  our  race  are  no* 
readily  baulked.  I  am  aware  that,  try  what  I  would, 
you  must  have  your  own  way  in  the  end.  And  so  you 
want  to  go  to  sea  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dad,"  responded  young  Jack ;  "since  you  put  it 
so,  I  want  to  go  to  sea. " 

"Alone?" 

"Not  quite.5' 

"  Harry  Girdwood  would  accompany  you  ?  " 

"Yes." 

Harry  faced  Harkaway  senior,  his  face  flushed. 

"I  shall  go  where  Jack  goes,"  he  said,  "even  to  the 
world's  end." 

Old  Jack  pressed  his  hand  in  silence. 

"The  greatest  thing  of  all  to  Mr.  Harvey  and  myself," 
he  said,  "  was  the  mutual  support  we  were  to  each  other. 
A  staunch  comrade  at  your  back  will  pull  you  through 
many  a  difficulty." 

"  So  I  feel,  dad,"  replied  young  Jack,  "and  that's  why 
I  hope  Harry  will  go  with  me  wherever  I  go." 

"You  do?"  said  old  Jack.  "Well,  then,  I  will  see 
what  can  be  done  for  you  both." 

So  having  reconciled  himself  to  young  Jack's  wish,  he 
set  to  work  to  further  his  boy's  views. 

A  friend  introduced  him  to  the  owner  of  a  ship  that  was 
just  going  to  set  sail  for  the  west  coast  of  Africa,  and  Mr. 
Harkaway  (how  strange  it  seems  to  speak  of  old  Jack  in 
that  formal  manner)  used  his  influence  to  secure  the  two 
boys  appointments  on  board. 

This  was  easily  accomplished. 

Harkaway  had  an  idea,  somehow,  that  at  the  eleventh 
hour  young  Jack  would  repent  of  his  resolution,  and 
cave  in. 

We  shall  see  how  far  he  was  right  presently. 

The  two  places  for  the  boys  being  secured,  Harkaway 
wrote  to  them  from  Portsmouth  to  come  down  at  once  to 
be  introduced  to  the  captain  and  owner.  This  led  to  a 
general  migration  of  the  Harkaway  family  and  friends. 

A  house  was  taken  in  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  with 
accommodation  for  them  all,  including  their  numerous 
retinue. 

And  here  for  awhile  they  took  up  their  abode. 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER. 


CHAPTER  IL 

TINKER'S  MYSTERY — HOW  HIS  VALET  APPEARED  ON  THE  SCENE 
— BOGEY  MAKES  HIS  BOW. 

PRIOR,  however,  to  the  incident  just  narrated — long 
previously,  in  fact,  for  it  was  sharply  upon  their  arrival 
in  England — it  became  known  that  there  was  something 
strange  going  on  in  connection  with  the  black  boy, 
Tinker. 

Tinker  had  grown  singularly  mysterious. 

He  was  observed  disappearing  continually,  when  any 
inquiry  was  made  for  him,  into  the  lower  regions  of  the 
Harkaway  establishment. 

He  had  been  watched,  and  then  there  came  a  report 
that  he  often  carried  off  food. 

"  He  thinks  there  is  going  to  be  a  famine,"  remarked 
young  Jack,  "and  he  is  making  a  store." 

But  this  did  not  satisfactorily  explain  it. 

Sunday,  however,  solved  the  mystery. 
'  He's  got  some  sort  of  animal  to  feed  downstairs." 
'  What  is  it  ? "  asked  young  Jack,  "  a  coon  ?  " 
'  Or  a  'possum  ?  " 
'  Or  a  kangaroo  ? " 
'  What  larks.     V  11  hunt  him." 

'No,  'tisn't  that,'     ^plied  Sunday  ;  "we'll  have  it  up, 
and  you  shall  see  foi    rourselves." 

So  down  he  went  \\  Jth  orders  to  Tinker. 

"Yes,  Massa  Sunday,"  said  Tinker,  "I  can  brought 
up  my  animile  if  you  like,  only  I  must  have  time  to 
make  him  look  spry." 

"All  right." 

"An" — an'  dey  won't  be  cross,  'case  of  my  having  the 
noble  critter  ?  " 

"No,  no." 

"Nor  'case  uv  my  hidin'  uv  him  on  board  de  3hip 
comin'  home?" 

"No,  no." 

"All  right,"  said  Tinker,  brightening  up  wonderfully. 
"Now  I'll  come  d'reckly." 


6  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

The  people  upstairs  could  hardly  restrain  their  impa- 
tience while  Tinker  made  his  preparations. 
However,  at  length  Tinker  came  in  alone. 
"  Hullo,  Tinker,"  cried  the  boys,  "  where's  the  animal  ? 
Tinker  bowed  much  in  the  way  of  a  ring-master  at  a 

circus. 

"De  splendid  animile  is  comm,  he  said,  gravely. 
"  I  hope  as  it'll  please  de  company  all  a  thunderin'  big 
immense  lot. " 

Tinker  carried  a  whalebone  whip  in  his  hand  which 
added  to  the  ring-master  appearance  alluded  to,  and  with 
his  whip  he  signalled  the  "animile  "  to  approach. 

"Bogey." 

"Oh,  yah,  yah,"  yelled  something  unearthly  outside. 

And  then  the  door  opened,  and  a  nigger  boy  bounded 
into  the  room. 

He  tripped  up  over  the  woollen  mat  at  the  door  and 
sprawled,  but  turned  over  on  to  his  feet  with  the  agility 
of  a  trained  acrobat. 

But  the  impetus  with  which  he  had  regained  his  feet 
sent  him  over  the  mark,  and  down  he  went,  bounding 
up,  for  the  second  time,  like  an  India  rubber-ball. 

This  time  he  landed  fairly  upon  his  feet,  and  coming  a 
dull  weight,  he  gave  a  thud  as  he  grounded,  and  the 
shock  rattled  all  the  room  up. 

And  now  the  party  had  time  to  examine  him. 

This  negro  was  a  boy  a  little  younger  than  Tinker, 
apparently,  and  not  quite  so  tall. 

He  was  certainly  not  a  pretty  nigger. 

His  mouth  was  huge,  even  for  a  darkey. 

Such  a  gash,  in  fact,  that,  at  a  casual  glance  at  his 
face,  you  saw  little  else  than  mouth. 

His  lord  and  master,  Tinker,  had  provided  him  with 
hair  powder,  and  it  did  not  adhere  to  his  frizzly  poll, 
but  shook  over  his  sable  face,  giving  him  a  ludicrous 
aspect. 

Tinker  had  rigged  him  up  in  a  novel  kind  of  livery, 
composed  of  a  variety  of  second-hand  garments,  which 
he  had  purchased  at  a  marine-store  dealer's. 

He  wore  a  militiaman's  coat  with  a  pair  of  huge  epau- 
lettes on  the  shoulders,  that  could  only  have  belonged  to 
an  officer  in  a  Christmas  pantomime,  an  old  cowskin 
waistcoat,  and  a  pair  of  real  footman's  plush  breeches. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  7 

The  boots  had  been  Tinker's  chief  difficulty,  for  his 
protigPs  feet  were  of  abnormal  dimensions. 

But  he  had  managed  to  find  a  pair  of  shoes  that  had 
been  owned  in  their  better  days  by  a  celebrated  perform- 
ing giant,  and  this  completed  the  nigger-boy's  rig-out 

"Now,  dear  Bogey,"  said  Tinker,  giving  him  a  gentle 
flick  with  his  whip,  ' '  just  make  you  bow  to  de  company. " 

Bogey  smiled — he  had  a  deafening  smile — and  jerking 
his  body  forward,  he  scraped  his  right  shoe  back  in  mak- 
ing his  obeisance. 

"Drop  that,"  cried  Sunday,  rushing  at  him.  "You'll 
spile  the  carpet,  you  black  imp." 

"He  could  use  up  a  carpet  a  day, "said  young  Jack, 
grinning. 

"  If  he  was  often  took  polite,"  commented  Sunday. 

"Ladies  an'  gemmen,"  began  Tinker,  who  meant  a 
speech. 

"  He,  he,  he,  yah !  "  smiled  the  new  nigger,  in  rather 
a  loud  voice. 

"You  iggorant  beast,"  said  Tinker,  flicking  him  with 
the  whip.  "What  you  grinning  like  a  cantankerous  old 
dam  Cheshire  cat  for  ? " 

"'Case,"  explained  Bogey,  showing  his  ivories  in  an 
alarming  manner,  "'case  you  says  ladies  an'  gemmen." 

"Well?" 

"An' — an',"  explained  Bogey,  who  could  not  get  along 
for  laughing,  "  an'  dere  ain't  no  gals." 

This  set  the  company  generally  off  upon  the  giggle. 

"  Bery  good,  sar,"  said  Tinker,  eyeing  his  subordinate 
severely,  ' '  bery  good,  sar.  Gemmen,  fellers,  an'  pussons, 
dis  black  nigger,  Bogey  as  I  calls  him,  I  brought  ovar 
wid  me  jes'  as  a  kinder  speeches  o'  walley,  jes'  to  look 
after  me,  and  'tend  to  de  little  wants  of  dis  good-looking 
child." 

"Ur,  ur,  ur,  ur,  yah!"  grinned  Tinker's  "walley." 
"You  beastly  ugly,  Master  Tinker." 

"Take  dat,"  said  Tinker. 

He  got  it,  too,  in  the  shape  of  a  crack  on  the  head  with 
a  whalebone  whip,  which  sent  the  darkey's  hair  powder 
flying  out,  but  did  not  appear  to  incommode  him  in  the 
least. 

"  So  you've  got  a  valet,  Tinker?  "  said  Harvey. 

"Yes,  sar." 


8  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

And  what  do  you  want  with  a  valet,  pray  ? " 

Tinker  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  which  was 
not  any  thing  extraordinary,  it  might  be  mentioned. 

"My  walley,  sar,  am  to  look  arter  my  own  pussonal 
wants,  sar,  dat's  de  use  of  my  walley.  Take  dat  for 
larfin',  you  nigger  beast." 

Bogey  got  it  again. 

Tinker  promised  to  be  a  rare  tyrant. 

"Tell  us  where  you  picked  up  our  friend  Bogey,"  said 
young  Jack. 

"Bress  my  'art,"  returned  Tinker,  with  a  supercilious 
air,  "don't  you  know  dat,  Massa  Jack?  You  don't  know 
nuffin.  Why,  I  took  de  poor  debil  'case  he  was  so 
bressed  hungry.  I  found  him  starvin',  'case  he  belong  to 
dat  cantankerous  dam  willin,  Capen  Morgan,  an'  when 
we  kill  all  de  lot,  dis  poor  dam  ugly  critter  hab  no  grub, 
an'  nowheres  to  look  for  any.  He  was  so  bressed  fin  dat 
I  took  him  for  a  skellington,  an'  dat's  why  I  called  him 
Bogey,  'case  he  frightened  me  so." 

' '  So  you  adopted  him  at  once  ?  "  inquired  young  Jack. 

Tinker  nodded  in  a  condescending  manner. 

"Dat's  it;  I  took  de  bressed  nigger  into  my  sarvice, 
an'  feed  him  on  de  fat  ob  de  land,  sar.  Don't  I, 
Bogey  ? " 

He  accompanied  this  question  with  a  crack  of  the  whip, 
probably  intended  to  quicken  the  reply. 

"Yah,  ha,  ha,  !"  grinned  Bogey,  "fat  ob  de  land — 
dat's  it.  You  don't  gib  too  much  lean." 

"  Iggorant  beast,"  said  Tinker,  with  lofty  disdain  ; 
"  follow  dis  cleber  child,  and  don't  make  a  row." 


_There  was,  at  length,  no  end  to  the  ranks  and  grades 
of  the  humbler  retainers  in  the  Harkaway  household. 

"That's  Mr.  Harkaway's  bell,  Sunday,"  said  Monday, 
as  he  sat  roasting  his  knees  before  the  fire  in  the  servants' 
hall. 

"So  it  is,"  says  Sunday.  "  D'ye  hear  dat  bell, 
Tinker  ? " 

' '  De  gub'nor's  bell  ?  "  murmurs  Tinker,  with  all  the  re- 
pose and  languor  of  a  Belgravian  flunkey.  "Bogey  you 
nigger,  do  you  hear  dat  bell  ? " 

"Yes." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER. 


"  Well,  go,  if  you  hear  dat  bell,  you  ebony  cuss  ? " 
"Oh,  yes,  Massa  Tinker,"  replies  Bogey,  grinning  so 
as  to  show  a  sectional  view  of  his  throat ;   "but  I  thought 
you  was  all  a-gwine  at  oncet,  yah,  yah,  yah  ! " 

And  Bogey  tumbled  head  over  heels  out  of  the  room. 


CHAPTER  III. 

AT     PORTSMOUTH — MR.    HARKAWAY's     DOUBTS — THE    GOOD    SHIP- 
OWNER. 

THAT  is  how  the  Harkaway  party  became  increased  by 
one  important  retainer,  the  funny  nigger  boy  Bogey — Mr. 
Tinker's  valet,  if  you  please. 

Well,  Bogey  soon  got  to  be  a  great  favorite,  and  a  gen- 
eral source  of  amusement  all  round,  so  that  when  the 
Portsmouth  trip  was  mooted,  nothing  would  do  for  young 
Jack  but  his  boy  Tinker  and  Bogey  should  go. 

The  shipowner  was  a  bland,  agreeable  gentleman,  with 
soft,  persuasive  manners,  and  a  voice  to  match. 

Young  Jack  soon  got  upon  the  right  side  of  him  also. 

Mr.  Murray,  for  that  was  his  name,  had  a  clerical  look, 
and  was  generally  taken  for  a  parson,  as  he  wore  a  white 
choker  and  a  pair  of  gold-rimmed  spectacles. 

Young  Jack,  who  was  not  wanting  in  brass,  put  it  to 
Mr.  Murray  that  they  would  like  to  take  his  boy  Tinker 
and  Bogey  with  them. 

"Well,  Master  Harkaway,"  said  the  benevolent  old 
gentleman,  smiling,  "  it  is  not  exactly  usual  for  young- 
sters like  you  to  take  a  body-guard  on  board.  But  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  have  to  say  yes.  Are  they  good  sailors  ?  " 

"They  are  pretty  well  up  in  their  duties  aboard  ship," 
returned  young  Jack ;  ' '  they  made  the  voyage  home 
from  Australia  with  us.'' 

This  was  settled. 

"  I  shall  be  able  to  introduce  you  to  your  new  captain 
to-morrow,"  said  Mr.  Murray. 

"  A  good  seaman,  you  say?  "  remarked  old  Jack. 

"  Captain  Jem  Robinson,  my  dear  Mr.  Harkaway,"  re- 
turned the  shipowner,  ' '  is  not  only  every  inch  a  sailor, 
but  he  is  a  good  man — a  Christian,  sir — a  disciplinarian, 
but  right,  sir. " 


10  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"I'm  glad  to  hear  it ;  I  like  my  boys  to  be  with  a  man 
who  knows  his  duty  and  does  it." 

"You  are  fortunate,  Mr.  Harkaway,"  said  the  ship- 
owner, warmly,  "in  having  such  a  captain  for  your 
boys." 

"I'm  glad  of  that." 

"Ah,  sir,"  pursued  Mr.  Murray,  "Captain  Jem  Robin- 
son is  the  very  man  of  all  others  that  I  should  like  my 
own  boy  to  go  under. 

"You  have  a  son?" 

"Yes." 

"  Has  he  any  fancy  for  the  sea  ? " 

"No;  I  wished  him  to  go  out  in  the  'Albatross,'  I 
pressed  the  matter,  in  fact,  when  I  heard  of  your  young 
gentleman  at  first ;  but  my  boy  is  not  a  good,  docile  lad 
like  yours." 

"Ahem!  " 

"No,  no,  my  boy  is  very  self-willed  and  fast,  my  dear 
sir — very  fast,  I  regret  to  say.  In  fact,  a  boy  that  is  used 
up  and  blast  as  most  fast  men  of  forty." 

"  It's  a  thousand  pities,"  said  Harkaway  ;  "  why,  a  trip 
with  such  a  man  as  Captain  Robinson  would  work  a 
radical  cure." 

"So  I  feel,"  returned  Mr.  Murray,  with  a  sigh  ;  "but 
I've  tried  and  tried  and  tried  until  I  am  tired.  The  '  Alba- 
tross '  is  such  a  splendid  ship." 

"Safe  as  one  of  the  P.  and  O.  line,  I  am  told." 

"Quite,"  replied  the  shipowner. 

"  The  underwriters  must  seek  your  custom,  Mr.  Mur- 
ray ? " 

"  I  don't  insure,"  replied  the  ship  owner. 

"Not  insure  !  " 

"No." 

"How  is  that?" 

"As  I  have  a  great  number  of  vessels,  you  see,  I  have 
an  insurance  fund  of  my  own,  and  up  to  the  present  I 
have  been  so  very  fortunate  with  my  ships,  that  if  I  did 
meet  with  losses,  I  should  be  covered  for  a  very  consid- 
erable sum  out  of  what  I  have  saved  by  not  insuring  my 
ships." 

"I  see." 

And  in  truth  old  Jack  felt  precious  comfortable  to  think 
that  since  his  boys— for  Harry  Girdwood  was  but  one 


HIS  BO  Y  TINKER.  1 1 

degree  less  dear  to  him  than  his  own  son — were  bent 
upon  leaving  him,  they  were  at  least  going  in  good  com- 
pany, and  in  as  stout  and  staunch  a  ship  as  there  was 
afloat. 

So  everybody  said. 

They  had  not  seen  the  "  Albatross  "  as  yet 

But  what  of  that  ? 

"  He  insures  his  own  vessel,"  said  Harkaway  to  all  his 
friends  and  companions;  "that's  something  like  confi- 
dence, eh  ? " 

And  they  were  agreed  all  upon  this  point. 


"I  don't  like  him." 

"Prejudice,  my  dear,"  said  Jack.      "Prejudice." 

"Don't  care,"  replied  Mrs.  Harkaway,  "there is  some- 
thing in  his  face  that  makes  me  shudder. " 

"Why?" 

"  I  don't  know.  But  I  always  feel  when  I  look  at  him 
much  the  same  as  I  do  when  I  look  at  an  undertaker." 

"That's  because  of  his  white  choker,"  said  old  Jack. 

"No,  no,"  said  Mrs.  Harkaway.  "He  is  an  oily- 
tongued  old  rascal,  Jack. " 

"Emily  !  "  exclaimed  her  husband,  rather  angrily. 

"Object  to  the  expression  if  you  like,"  said  Mrs.  Hark- 
away;  "I  can't  help  it.  Depend  upon  it  that  anything 
we  have  to  do  with  old  Murray  will  lead  to  no  good, 
neither  to  you  nor  I,  nor  to  our  Jack  and  Harry." 

Old  Jack  turned  away  impatiently  at  this. 

"Jack,"  said  Mrs.  Harkaway,  seriously,  "do  you 
know  what  you  have  said  to  me,  scores  and  scores  of 
times?" 

"No." 

"Yes,  you  do.  You  have  often  told  me  that  I  am  as 
good  as  a  witch — and  my  life  upon  it — this  old  Murray  is 
a  hypocrite." 

"  Why,  what  on  earth  would  you  do  then  ?" 

"  Give  up  all  dealings  with  him." 

"  Impossible.  Consider  how  far  we  have  gone  in  the 
business." 

"What  of  that?" 

"Every  thing  of  that.  You  can't  for  a  mere  whim  or 
fancy  throw  up  a  whole  negotiation.  It  would  not  be 


1 2  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

treating  Mr.  Murray  fairly.  Besides,  ask  Jack  and  Harry 
what  they  would  do  ! " 

And  so  the  little  argument  ended 

Mrs.  Harkaway  was  silenced,  at  any  rate. 

But  was  she  convinced  ? 

No. 

A  silent,  inward  voice  persisted  in  whispenng  warn- 
ings anent  the  "  Albatross  "  and  the  venerable  owner. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

LITTLE  EMILY  AND  PAQUTTA — A  STARTLING  ADVENTURE — YOUNG 
JACK  TO  THE  RESCUE — THE  YOUTHFUL  SWELL  AND  HIS  FAST 
TIGER — A  TUSSLE  AND  WHAT  CAME  OF  IT. 

WHILE  Mrs.  Harkaway  was  filled  with  solicitude  about 
her  boy  and  his  companion,  Harry  Girdwood,  little  Emily 
and  Paquita  met  with  an  adventure  which  may  as  well 
be  narrated,  as  it  bears  directly  upon  the  future  of  the 
chief  personages  in  this  portion  of  our  history. 

Little  Emily — we  call  her  so  to  distingush  her  from  Mrs. 
Harkaway ;  in  reality  she  was  fast  losing  the  right  to  the 
diminutive  distinction — and  Paquita  were  rambling  out 
of  the  town  to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  country,  and  discuss- 
ing the  prospects  of  their  two  youthful  admirers,  young 
Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood,  when  the  adventure  alluded 
to  occurred. 

"I  wish  they  had  never  got  such  a  silly  notion  in  their 
heads,"  said  Paquita,  who  spoke  perfect  English  now,  but 
with  (he  prettiest  accent  in  the  world. 

'They  are  rolling  stones,"  sighed  little  Emily. 

'  I  can't  think  what  possesses  Harry  to  go." 

'I  can,"  said  Emily. 

'What?" 

'  Because  he  is  tarred  with  the  same  brush  as  my  father 
and  Mr.  Harkaway.  They  are  ever  on  the  move,  never 
satisfied  to  be  settled  down  in  one  place." 

"So  it  is  with  Jack,"  said  Paquita,  "but  Harry  only 
goes  because  he  won't  desert  his  comrade." 

"Do  you  think  that  they  "ill  be  liiely  to  come  tUs 
way  ?  "  demanded  Emily. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER. 


»3 


"  I  think  it  is  very  likely." 

"Why?" 

"  I  mentioned  that  we  thought  of  strolling  this  way." 

"Oh!" 

"  Ahem  !  " 

As  these  young  ladies  reached  this  period  of  their  pro- 
Aienade  and  of  their  conversion,  they  perceived  two 
young  fellows  advancing  towards  them  from  the  opposite 
direction. 

They  only  caught  a  casual  glance  at  them,  and  taking 
it  for  granted  that  they  were  Harry  Girdwood  and  young 
Jack,  they  at  once  stopped  short. 

But  they  were  both  mistaken  about  the  persons  coming 
along. 

One  was  a  rakish-looking  youth,  who  bore  some  ap- 
pearance of  having  dined  very  recently  and  very  plen- 
teously. 

His  cheeks  were  flushed  with  wine,  and  his  eyes  full  of 
mischief. 

Beside  him  walked  a  young  fellow,  of  about  his  own 
age,  dressed  in  a  tiger's  livery. 

Thus  their  relative  positions  were  shown. 

"Two  luscious  gals,  sir,"  said  the  tiger,  touching  his 
hat,  and  pointing  to  Emily  and  Paquita. 

"Swell,"  returned  the  master,  sententiously. 

"  Right  in  our  course  too,  sir, "  said  the  tiger  with  a  leer. 

"So  they  are,  Chivey,"  said  his  master,  "  so  we'll  teach 
'em  to  take  up  all  the  room,  eh  ?  " 

On  they  came  behind  the  unsuspecting  girls. 

"Well,  my  pretty  darling,  where  are  you  going?" 

And  the  inebriated  young  gentleman  threw  his  arm 
round  Emily's  neck  and  kissed  her. 

Like  master,  like  man. 

Tiger  Chivey  placed  his  arm  around  Paquita's  waist, 
and  squeezed  it. 

"Hah!"  screamed  Emily,  thinking  it  was  Jack,  "how 
dare  you  ? " 

She  was  mistaken  ;  but  Paquita  caught  a  glimpse  of 
her  tormentor,  and  swinging  herself  round,  she  dealt  him 
a  spanking  box  on  the  ear,  that  gave  Mr.  Chivey  the  news- 
bell  for  an  hour  or  so. 

"  My  dear,"  began  the  young  gentleman,  "give  us  an- 
other.'* 


1 4  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

And  the  young  scamp  endeavoured  to  kiss  Emily 
again. 

"  Let  me  go  !  "  cried  Emily,  indignantly. 

"Not  if  I  know  it,  my  pretty  dear." 

Emily  shrieked  as  he  pressed  her  closer  in  his  arms, 
and  kissed  her  again  in  spite  of  her  struggles. 

Suddenly  the  young  gentleman's  head  was  jerked 
violently  back. 

A  hand  at  the  back  of  his  collar  had  done  it. 

He  was  swung  round  and  sent  spinning  round  and 
round,  to  find  his  ignominious  level  in  the  middle  of  the 
road. 

"Hullo,  you  sir  !  "  cried  Tiger  Chivey,  squaring  up  to 
the  new  comer;  "  drop  that  game,  or  look  out  for  your 
nob." 

"Be  off,  you  dog,''  said  young  Jack,  for  he  was  the 
opportune  performer  of  this  feat. 

Harry  Girdwood  was  there,  and  he  was  not  in  the 
humour  to  stand  any  nonsense. 

He  dropped  the  sprightly  tiger  a  very  ugly  blow  upon 
his  cheek,  and  following  it  rapidly  up  with  a  second 
visitation,  Mr.  Tiger  found  himself  on  his  back,  but  he 
was  quickly  up  again. 

Chivey  ran  to  his  master's  aid,  and  helped  him  to 
scramble  to  his  feet. 

"Just  hold  my  coat,  Chivey,  while  I  double  up  that 
young  rough,"  said  his  master. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  the  tiger,  quite  cheerfully. 

He  had  his  coat  off  very  promptly,  and  began  squaring 
up. 

Upon  these  unmistakable  signs  of  warfare  the  two 
young  ladies  grew  dreadfully  alarmed,  and  both  hung  on 
to  young  Jack  to  keep  him  from  getting  into  mischief. 

' '  Don't  go  near  him,  Jack  !  "  exclaimed  Emily.  "  Come 
home." 

"Yes,  you  shall  take  him  home,  my  love,"  said  Mr. 
Chivey,  the  tiger ;  "  when  my  guv'nor  has  done  with 
him." 

"They'll  kill  him,"  cried  Emily,  in  great  alarm. 
;'Not  quite,"  said  the  tiger,  "only  spoil  his  beauty." 
'Let  go,  Em,"  said   young  Jack,  whose  dander  was 
regularly  up  by  now. 

"Come  home,  "implored  poor  Emily.     "Oh,  do,  Jack  I " 


fffS  BOY  TINKER.  15 

"  Here,  Harry,"  said  Jack,  "just  you  go  home  with  the 
girls,  and  leave  me  to  correct  this  fellow." 

"They'd  better  take  him  home  while  there's  some  of 
him  left,"  said  Chivey,  compassionately,  "or  you  will 
have  to  pick  him  up  in  little  pieces." 

This  nettled  Harry  Girdwood,  so  he  ran  at  Chivey,  but 
the  latter  dodged  him  nimbly. 

"Come,  come,  this  is  no  place  for  you,  Paquita,  nor 
for  you  either,  Emily.  Come  along." 

"No,  no." 

"Jack  can  take  care  of  himself,  I  tell  you;  come 
along." 

Half-persuading,  half-dragging,  Harry  got  them  away 
from  Jack. 

Now  the  latter  was  no  sooner  freed  from  their  embar- 
rassments, than  the  youthful  scamp  who  insulted  little 
Emily  made  a  rush  at  Jack  before  he  could  recover  him- 
self sufficiently  to  be  upon  his  guard,  and  dropped  in  two 
stinging  blows  which  half-staggered  him. 

"That  will  teach  you  to "  he  began. 

But  he  hadn't  time  to  finish  it. 

Young  Jack  was  at  him  like  a  lion,  and  he  "forced  the 
pace, "  as  sporting  people  say,  so  hard,  that  the  adversary 
retreated  before  him  half-a-dozen  paces,  guarding  some- 
what wildly. 

But  young  Jack  was  not  to  be  denied. 

He  pulled  up  short,  and  sparred  a  bit. 

And  then  leaving  an  opening  just  to  coax  his  man  on, 
he  feinted  with  his  left,  and  shot  out  his  right  like  a  steam 
hammer. 

It  went  right  over  the  other's  guard,  and  down  he 
went. 

"Bravo,  old  boy." 

Now,  strange  to  relate,  this  applause  came  from  the 
tiger. 

Such  an  enthusiast  was  Mr.  Chivey  in  the  noble  art  of 
self-defence,  that  he  could  not  control  his  admiration  for 
such  a  stroke. 

However,  he  helped  his  master  on  to  his  legs  and 
scraped  off  the  mud  from  his  back. 

The  shock  had  completely  sobered  the  young  scoundrel, 
and  he  saw  now  that  he  was  in  for  a  very  doubtful  job. 

However  he  was  not  wanting  in  courage. 


16  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

So,   pulling  himself  together,   he  sparred  warily  for 

Both  combatants  were  skillful  boxers,  but  Jack  had 
received  some  very  valuable  hints  from  his  professor, 
Dick  Harvey,  and  he  remembered  now  one  bit  of  advice 
— to  follow  up  an  advantage  sharply. 

So  he  would  not  allow  his  adversary  to  get  into  trim 
again,  but  boring  him  in,  he  set  to  work  at  heavy  play, 
and  landed  him  three  times  in  quick  succession  upon  the 
face. 

He  drew  blood  now,  and  a  good  deal  of  it,  which 
frightened  the  young  ladies,  you  may  be  sure. 

The  unlucky  young  rake  was  restored  to  the  tiger  for 
his  care  and  attention. 

"I  think  that  he  has  had  enough,  Jack,"  said  Harry 
Girdwood. 

"  I  hope  you're  not  much  hurt? "  remarked  Jack. 

The  other  made  no  reply. 

"Apologise  to  the  young  ladies,"  said  Jack,  "and 
there'll  be  an  end  to  the  matter." 

"  You  be  hanged  !  "  cried  the  half-beaten  young  rake  ; 
"I'll  smash  you  yet." 

"  Well, "  said  Jack,  coolly;  "you  force  it  on  yourself, 
so  it's  no  fault  of  mine.  Now  I'm  ready  to  thrash  you 
again. " 

"  Oh,  Jack,"  cried  little  Emily,  in  great  distress ;  "don't 
hurt  him  again  ;  look  how  dreadful  he  looks." 

This  goaded  the  object  of  her  solicitude  to  fury. 

"You  want  to  get  him  away  now,  do  you — you — 
you — -" 

"  If  you  forget  yourself  before  the  ladies,"  said  Harry 
Girdwood,  "  you'll  get  more  than  you  bargain  for." 

"Why  don't  you  come  and  help  him?" 

"He  don't  want  any  assistance,"  said  Harry.  "My 
friend  Jack  is  enough  for  you." 

' '  See  the  girls  home,  Harry,"  said  Jack,  "and  then  come 
back,  if  you  like." 

"All  right." 

Harry  took  them  each  by  the  arm  and  forced  them 
away. 

"This  is  not  a  sight  for  young  ladies, "  he  said ;  "come, 
come.  Jack  can  take  care  of  himself." 

In  this  way  he  got  them  some  little  distance. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  17 

And  then  seeing  that  it  was  no  use  to  oppose  further 
they  effected  a  compromise. 

"We'll  go,  Harry,"  said  Emily,  "  if  you  11  stay." 

"Very  well." 

"But  see  that  Jack  doesn't  get  into  any  harm." 

"I  will." 

"Go  back  then." 

"All  right." 

"Now,  now." 

"Very  well ;  but  you  go  home." 

"We  will,  we  will ;  but  get  back." 

Harry  waited  a  bit  to  see  them  on  their  way,  and  when, 
casting  lingering  looks  behind  towards  the  scene  of  the 
fray,  they  had  got  some  twenty  or  thirty  paces,  he  went 
back  to  rejoin  his  comrade." 

It  was  just  time. 

Jack's  adversary  had  closed  with  him,  and  the  tiger 
Chivey,  profiting  by  the  absence  of  spectators,  was 
pounding  away  at  Jack's  head  and  back  as  hard  as  he 
could. 

"Hullo!"  cried  Harry,  rushing  up;  "that's  a  nice 
way  of  fighting.  Drop  that,  you  scamp." 

He  seized  Mr.  Chivey  by  the  collar  and  dragged  him 
off,  and  then  he  kicked  him  viciously  in  the  rear. 

This  he  continued  until  he  was  tired  out,  in  spite  of  the 
tiger's  struggles. 

Chivey  had  reason  to  remember  this. 

"A  low  beast  of  a  fellow,"  the  tiger  said  subsequently 
to  his  master;  "  my  back's  like  a  stained-glass  window, 
I  know.  He  wears  boots  like  a  navvy." 


Young  Jack  could  take  a  good  lot  of  punishment,  and 
it  appeared  to  have  very  little  effect  upon  him,  for  he 
dropped  into  the  work  again  as  fresh  as  ever. 

He  popped  in  the  blows  in  such  quick  succession,  that 
his  adversary  was  fairly  knocked  out  of  time. 

He  guarded  wildly,  and  swung  his  arms  about,  leaving 
young  Jack  to  do  pretty  well  as  he  liked  with  him 
now. 

"Will  you  apologise?  "  demanded  Jack. 

"No!" 

4 'Take  that  then." 


l8  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

Down  went  the  ill-advised  young  rake  as  flat  as  a 
flounder. 

"  That's  a  cooper, "  cried  Chivey,  dropping  to  his  knees 
beside  his  master;  "you  may  consider  as  I've  chucked 
up  the  sponge. " 

"Does  he  apologise ? "  demanded  Jack. 

"Yes,"  responded  the  vanquished  adversary,  in  a  faint 
voice. 

"All  right,"  said  young  Jack,  all  his  enmity  vanishing 
upon  the  instant.  "What  can  I  do  for  you?  There's 
my  hand. " 

"Keep  it,"  returned  the  beaten  youth,  sullenly,  "keep 
it  until  I  take  it  out  of  you  when  I'm  in  condition  ;  you 
shall  get  it  yet.  I'll  have  my  revenge  on  you." 

"Brute!  "said  Harry  Gird  wood;  "you  deserve  your 
licking." 

"If  you  want  me,"  said  Jack,  tossing  down  a  card, 
"  you  will  always  find  me  at  that  address;  my  name's 
young  Jack  Harkaway." 

"The  deuce  it  is,"  exclaimed  the  Tiger;  "here's  a 

go." 

And  he  whispered  something  to  his  master. 


CHAPTER  V. 

JOVIAL  CAPTAIN  ROBINSON — MR.   CHIVEY  THE  TIGER  VISITS  HIS 
MASTER'S  FATHER. 

NEITHER  young  Jack  nor  Harry  noticed  the  tiger's 
whisper  to  his  master. 

And  so,  without  paying  any  more  attention  to  master 
or  man,  our  two  companions  made  their  way  after  little 
Emily  and  Paquita. 

And  young  Jack  had  not  a  trace  of  his  late  encounter 
to  take  home  with  him. 

Brave  young  Jack. 

Young  Jack  was  precious  lucky  to  escape  this  tussle 
without  so  much  as  a  mark  to  take  home  with  him. 

When  he  got  back,  he  was  met  at  the  door  by  little 
Emily  and  Paquita,  whose  expression  denoted  how  much 
they  had  really  suffered  in  anxiety  for  his  safety. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  19 

"  What  a  bad,  rash  boy  you  are,"  said  Emily ;  "how 
dare  you  go  fighting  like  that  ? " 

"Now,  I  appeal  to  any  one,"  replied  young  Jack. 
"Was  it  my  fault?" 

"But  fighting  in  the  streets  is  not  gentlemanly." 

"I  know  that,"  returned  young  Jack,  "but  I  couldn't 
get  out  of  it — you  wouldn't  have  me  turn  around  and 
run  away,  especially  from  such  a  miserable  worm  as 
that  ? " 

"  Of  course  not,  Jack." 

And  her  looks  showed  plainly  enough  that  she  had 
too  much  of  her  parents'  spirit  in  her  to  wish  such  a 
thing. 

Her  looks,  too,  showed  unbounded  admiration  for  her 
champion. 

'  I've  got  news  for  you,  Jack,"  she  said,  presently. 
'  Good  news  ? " 
'Yes." 

What  is  it  ?  " 
•Guess." 

'  Captain  Robinson  has  arrived,"  guessed  Jack. 
;  That's  it.     Why,  you're  a  conjuror.     How  did  you 
guess  ? " 

"I  expected  Captain  Robinson,  that's  all." 

Captain  Robinson  came,  and  a  jovial,  red- faced  skipper 
he  looked. 

And  his  manner  was  perfectly  in  keeping  with  his 
appearance. 

A  hearty,  taking  way  he  had  that  won  every  heart. 

"The  'Albatross!'"  he  exclaimed,  when  questioned 
by  Harkaway  as  to  the  merits  of  his  vessel ;  "I  only  wish 
that  there  was  a  thousand  such  crafts  afloat  in  these 
waters,  none  of  your  flash-looking,  rakish  craft,  but  a 
downright  solid-built  Englishman — one  of  the  float-while- 
there's-a-plank-left-sort,  and  never  say  die." 

Mrs.  Harkaway  made  no  reply. 

"And  what  do  you  think  of  the  'Albatross,'  young 
gentleman  ?  "  said  the  skipper  to  Harvey  and  young  Jack. 

"Can't  give  any  opinion  yet,  captain,"  answered  the 
latter,  "  until  she  arrives." 

"  What  ? " 

"  Let  us  see  her  first,  sir,"  said  Harry,  "and  then  we'll 
give  an  opinion." 


2 o  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

''Why,"  exclaimed  the  captain,  ''surely  you  don't 
mean  that  you  haven't  been  to  see  her? " 

"Couldn'f  very  well,  not  knowing  what  part  of  the 
world  she  v  *n,"  answered  young  Jack. 

"  Wel^  >  suppose  that  she  is  about  a  mile  from  here, 
riding  at  anchor,  and  waiting  to  welcome  us." 

"  You  don't  say  that?  " 

"Don't   I?  "said  the  captain   shortly;  "I  thought  I 

did/' 

"  I'll  go  on  board  to-morrow,  Captain  Robinson,  said 
young  Jack,  "  with  your  permission." 

"  Of  course  you  shall, "  returned  the  bluff  captain  ;  * '  and 
as  many  more  of  you  as  like  to." 

"  I'll  go  too,  then,"  said  Dick. 

"Welcome." 

"And  I." 

"Welcome  again,  say  I ;  and  welcome  all  round." 

And  so  it  was  settled  that  the  party  should  be  made  up 
to  visit  the  ship. 

Everyone  about  were  charmed  with  this  model  skipper, 
so  bluff  and  hearty  was  he. 

"  A  bold  and  good  sailor,  I  should  think,"  said  Dick. 

And  this  opinion  was  re-echoed  by  one  and  all. 


Mr.  Murray,  the  owner  of  the  "Albatross"  amongst 
others,  was  in  trouble. 

He  had  one  son,  as  he  has  already  mentioned  himself 
incidentally,  and  this  son  occasioned  an  endless  amount 
of  trouble. 

Mr.  Murray  knew  that  his  scapegrace  boy  was  some- 
where about  in  the  neighbourhood,  and  he  sought  for  him 
far  and  wide. 

But  there  was  no  luck. 

"There  is  nothing  for  it,"  he  said,  "but  to  wait  until 
he  has  spent  his  last  money,  and  then  we  shall  see  him. 
He  always  calls  when  the  funds  run  low." 

But  this  time  the  scapegrace  boy  did  not  call. 

He  sent 

His  messenger  was  his  friend,  his  confidant,  and — his 
tiger. 

"Well,  Mr.  Chivey,"  said  Mr.  Murray,  in  his  severest 
manner ;  "  what  do  you  want  i " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  21 

"Guv'nor  sent  me,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Chivey,  touching 
his  forehead  by  way  of  salute. 

"The  governor?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Murray,  in  disgust: 
"do  you  mean  my  son  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,  just  so." 

' '  Then  why  don't  you  say  my  son  ?  "  exclaimed  Mr. 
Murray,  testily. 

"  Because  he  ain't  my  son,"  replied  Chivey,  with  great 
promptitude. 

"Bah!" 

"Eh!" 

The  tiger's  manner  was  most  aggravating,  and  Mr. 
Murray  lost  his  temper. 

"  Be  off,"  he  said,  "  and  send  your  master  to  me." 

"Can't,  sir." 

"Can't!" 

"No,  sir." 

"  Be  off,  you  scoundrel.  You  shall  not  stay  in  my 
service  any  longer.  Get  out ;  I  loathe  the  sight  of  you." 

"Very  sorry,  sir,  I  assure  you,"  returned  Chivey,  who 
looked  more  upon  the  grin  than  contrite,  "but  I'm  not  in 
your  service,  sir  ;  I'm  in  theguv'nor's." 

"  Send  my  son  here." 

"  He  can't  come." 

"Why  not?" 

"  He's  on  his  back  ;  got  on  a  couple  o'  poultices  and 
tincture  of  arniky  all  over." 

"Tincture  of  what  ?  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Murray. 

"Arniky,"  answered  Mr.  Chivey,  and  with  a  pitying 
air  he  added — "you  don't  know  what  arniky  is?  Why, 
it's  a  sort  of  lotion  you  put  on  to  bruises  and  such. " 

"What  on  earth  do  you  mean?  Is  my  son  ill  ?  Has 
he  met  with  an  accident  ? " 

"  Why,  no,  you  can't  call  it  a  accident,  exactly,"  an- 
swered Chivey,  coolly,  while  Mr.  Murray  was  foaming  ; 
"he  asked  for  it,  and  he  got  it,  too  ;  in  fact,  sir,  he  got 
more  then  he  wanted." 

"Got  what?" 

"A  licking,  sir — about  as  neat  a  licking  as  you  ever 
see — a  proper  cove  the  other,  a  regular  propper,  I  might 
say,  sir,  with  two  p's — he,  he  !  "  excuse  my  little  joke — 
"  he  propped  the  guv'nor  all  over.  Ding  dong  !  one  on  the 
smeller.  Tick,  tick,  bunged  up  the  left  peeper.  Tap, 


22  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

tap,  it  came — postman's  knock,  here,  there,  an'  where'll 
you  have  it  next,  my  boy  ?  " 

Mr.  Murray  groaned. 

"  This  animal  will  drive  me  mad  !  " 

"Animal !  "  iterated  Mr.  Chivey,  raising-  his  shirt  collar  ; 
"come  now  I  say " 

"You  idiot !  " 

"  '  Compliments  pass  when  gentlefolks  meet.' " 

"  Where  is  my  son  ?  " 

"Here's  his  address,  sir." 

The  tiger  handed  Mr.  Murray  a  very  dirty  card,  upon 
which  was  written  his  master's  address. 

"Say  I'll  call." 

"Very  good,  sir  ;  shall  I  take  any  tin  to  the  guv'nor, 
sir  ?  " 

"  Say  I'll  call." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  heard." 

"Get  out." 

"D'rectly,  sir;  but  you  really  ought  to  have  seen  him 
at  it.  Lor' !  it  would  have  made  you  jump  for  joy — such 
slogging,  and  the  guv'nor  ain't  bad  with  his  fives  either. 
But  he  wasn't  in  training  like  the  other  ;  the  proper  cove,  I 
mean.  The  guv'nor  he  liquors-up  too  much,  and  that's  a 
fact — makes  you  puffy,  you  know — the  worst  thing  in  the 
world  for  a  chap  in  training ;  you  ought  to  be  right  off 
your  lotion.  But  Lor' !  sir,  you  might  as  well  talk  to  the 
deaf  and  dumb  school  as  to  Master  Herbert — play  !  " 

He  broke  off  abruptly  to  catch  a  boot  which  Mr. 
Murray,  now  thoroughly  exasperated,  hurled  at  him. 

He  placed  the  boot  down  on  the  floor  with  great 
deliberation,  bowed  to  Mr.  Murray,  and  hitching  up  his 
collar,  walked  quickly  to  the  door. 

"  Nice  boot,  sir ;  good  morning,  sir ;  I'll  tell  the  guv'noi 
you're  coming." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  23 


CHAPTER  VI. 

JOVIAL  CAPTAIN   ROBINSON   AGAIN — STRANGE    REVELATIONS  ! 

CAPTAIN   ROBINSON'S   LEECH    AND     HOW   IT  BEGAN    TO  SUCK 

BLOOD FATHER   AND  SON — YOUNG  HOPEFUL'S    RESOLVE THE 

' '  ALBATROSS  "  SAILS  TO-MORROW. 

"CAPTAIN  ROBINSON,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Murray's  servant. 

"  Let  Captain  Robinson  come  in,"  said  Mr.  Murray. 

The  captain  entered. 

He  was  not  quite  so  jovial  as  he  had  shown  himself 
upon  his  introduction  to  the  Harkaways,  and  he  went 
with  his  owner  into  business  at  once,  with  scarcely  so 
much  as  the  usual  greetings. 

"The  'Albatross'  must  sail  to-morrow  night,"  he 
said. 

"And  why  must,  Captain  Robinson  ? "  asked  the  owner. 

"Because  the  Harkaways  and  their  friends  are  just 
about  as  'cute  as  people  say,  and  unless  you  want  the 
whole  game  blown,  we  had  better  get  off." 

"Bah!"  returned  Mr.  Murray,  contemptuously  ;  "you 
make  a  grand  mistake  ;  their  confidence  is  unbounded,  I 
tell  you — unbounded." 

"Is  it?" 

"Of  course." 

"Then  they  made  some  very  curious  remarks  about 
the  depth  of  water  in  the  hold  for  one  thing." 

"That's  your  fault,  then  ;  you  ought  to  have  had  the 
pumps  going  up  to  the  very  moment  they  went  on  board." 

"So  I  had,  but  damme  !  the  water  gets  in  too  fast  by  a 
long  way,  I  couldn't  keep  it  under  by  hook  or  by  crook. 
Besides,  I've  got  a  new  passenger,  an  awful  rich  Cock- 
ney, and  I  want  to  get  off  before  he  can  hear  any  ugly 
tales. " 

"What's  his  name?" 

"Figgins." 

"A  retired  grocer?  " 

' '  That's  the  party.  Well,  he's  going  to  dub  up  hand- 
some, and  to  take  out  a  whole  cargo  of  good  things,  so 
that  I  don't  want  to  risk  spoiling  him,  by  no  manner  of 
means. " 


24  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AMD 

"Very  well,  Robinson,"  said  the  shipowner;  "only 
mind  you  don't  spoil  the  very  thing  you  are  trying 
after. " 

"  How  ?" 

"  By  raising  suspicions  through  undue  haste." 

' '  No  fear  of  that. " 

"When  do  you  go  on  board  ?  " 

Captain  Robinson  stared  at  his  owner. 

"Didn't  you  hear  me  ?  I  said,  when  do  you  go  on 
board  ?  " 

"What  for?" 

"To  take  command." 

"Why,  you  don't  suppose  for  a  minute  that  I  mean 
going  on  board  the  '  Albatross  ?  ' ' 

"Not  going!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Murray.  "Why,  how 
on  earth,  then,  can  she  start  ?  " 

"Why,  I  set  too  big  a  price  upon  my  precious  carcase, 
to  trust  myself  on  such  a  rotten  old  tub.  Why  she's  as 
full  of  holes  as  a  cullender." 

"  But  they  have  been  caulking  and  painting  this  week 
past." 

"Aye,  up  above  the  water  line.  But  let  her  get  into  a 
bit  of  sea,  and  it'll  all  wash  away  as  clean  as  a  whistle, 
and  in'll  come  the  water  by  the  bucketful — aye,  by  the 
barrelful. " 

"You  exaggerate  the  danger,  I  am  sure." 

"Devil  a  bit,"  returned  Captain  Robinson,  "  and  none 
knows  it  better  than  you " 

"Sir!" 

"Come,  come,  no  smarming  politeness  with  me,  if  you 
please.  Why,  who  knows  all  about  it  better " 

"The  'Albatross/  sir "  began  Mr.  Murray. 

"Is  a  lovely  craft — on  paper — a  splendid  ship  for  the 
underwriters.  However,  we're  only  wasting  time  by 
going  into  that." 

"Why  on  earth  did  you  lead  me  to  suppose  you 
accepted  the  command,  then  ?  " 

"Why?     I    never   led  you  to  suppose  I    was  going. 
I've  got  a  substitute  all  right  and  tight,    and   I  shall  be 
taken  ill  at  the  last  moment,  d'ye  see?  " 
'  Who  is  the  substitute  ?  " 

"A pal  of  mine,  who's  in  trouble,  and  can't  show  up 
until  the  last  moment " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  25 

"But,  if  the  'Albatross'  is  not  under  skilful  command, 
she'll  founder  before  she  gets  out  of  sight  of  land " 

Mr.  Murray  pulled  up  short. 

He  had  said  too  much. 

He  would  have  given  something  to  recall  those  words. 
Too  late. 

Captain  Robinson  leered  at  the  owner  significantly. 

"You  needn't  fear  nothing  about  that.  Joe  Deering  is 
as  good  a  seaman  as  ever  sailed,  only  he's  got  into  an 
awkward  mess,  and  must  get  away,  or  he'd  be  lodged  in 
limbo  in  a  brace  of  shakes — just  the  fellow  for  a  forlorn 
hope. " 

Mr.  Murray  winced. 

"Be  more  choice  in  your  expressions,  Captain  Robin- 
son," he  said. 

"Well,  that's  just  what  it  is,  neither  more  nor  less  ;  a 
forlorn  hope.  But  there,  it's  no  use  arguing.  Would  you 
like  to  take  a  voyage  in  the  '  Albatross  ? ' ' 

"I?" 

"  No,  you  would  not,  of  course.  No  sane  man  would, 
if  he  knew  as  much  as  you  and  I  know." 

"  But  frankly,  Captain  Robinson — disguise  apart,  you 
think  that  the  '  Albatross '  is " 

"  Fated  ?  Yes,  that's  the  word.  She'll  go  to  the  bottom 
of  the  sea  like  a  stone,  and  you'll  land  a  big  plum  in  the 
way  of  insurance,  and  I  shall  come  in  for  my  little  bit  as 
captain." 

"I  don't  see  that." 

"I  do,  though." 

"But,  if  you  don't  go " 

"  Then  I  should  consider  it  my  duty  to  society  to  show 
you  up." 

Bland  Mr.  Murray  smiled. 

' '  You  forget,  captain,  that  that  is  a  proceeding  which 
would  cut  both  ways." 

"  Not  it.  Catch  a  weasel  asleep,  and  shave  his  eye- 
brows. I've  got  the  ground  all  thoroughly  prepared  for 
myself." 

"How?" 

"By  those  letters  I  wrote,   warning  you." 

*'I  never  received  any." 

"I  can't  help  that,"  answered  this  jovial  captain.  "I 
wrote  'em  and  had  'em  duly  witnessed,  and  copied  in  a 


26  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

letter  book,  and  if  you  pretended  that  you  never  received 
them,  why,  who  on  earth  would  believe  you  ?  Besides, 
my  refusal  to  go  is  quite  enough,  else  why  did  you  en- 
gage Captain  Joe  Deering  ?  " 

"I  never  engaged  him." 

"  Who  did,  then  ?  " 

"You." 

"Get  along  with  you.     Joe  Deering  will  never  come 
back  to  say  that,   and  you  might  talk  till  you  was  pea- 
green  without  getting  anybody  to  listen  to  it." 
^  "But  I " 

"Bah,  sir.     You  try  it  on  with  a  jury  when  you  like." 

Mr.  Murray  gasped. 

"Well,  sir." 

"Well,  then,"  said  Captain  Robinson,  in  his  old  jovial 
style,  "it  is  understood.  The  'Albatross'  sails  to- 
morrow ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so." 

Mr.  Murray  was  beaten. 

The  villanous  captain  got  a  little  money  on  account 
and  left  his  owner,  smacking  his  pocket  with  an  evident 
air  of  satisfaction. 

He  had  reason  to. 


"That's  the  first  of  a  series, "said  Captain  Robinson. 
"  I  couldn't  have  hit  upon  a  better  thing.  I  have  only 
got  to  apply  my  leech,  and  I'll  bleed  the  old  rascal  just  a& 
often  as  I  like." 

And  the  villain  walked  off,  looking  the  very  picture  of 
good  nature. 

****** 

Mr.  Murray  visited  his  scapegrace  son. 

He  found  him  in  bed,  bandaged  and  swathed  in  lint 
and  arnica,  precisely  as  the  Cockney  tiger  had  stated. 

His  eyes  were  both  discoloured  in  spite  of  all  the  reme- 
dies which  had  been  applied. 

Young  Jack's  handiwork  was  not  like  some  of  those 
cheap  printed  calicoes  we  hear  about. 

His  were  fast  colours. 

Herbert  Murray's  nose  was  swollen  to  about  thrice  its 
normal  dimensions,  and  his  lips  were  as  thick  as  a 
negro's. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  27 

He  rued  the  rashness  bitterly  that  had  tempted  him  into 
an  encounter  with  the  son  and  heir  of  the  Harkaways. 

"Well,  Master  Herbert,"  said  his  father,  sternly,  "this 
is  a  pretty  affair." 

"  It's  no  use  bullying,"  responded  young  hopeful.  "  I 
did  all  I  knew  to  knock  him  out  of  time,  but  he  was  too 
quick,  and  nothing  hurts  him." 

"  Hurts  him  !"  said  the  shipowner,  looking  up  to  the 
ceiling  with  an  injured  air;  "it  hurts  me  far  more  than 
you." 

"I'd  bet  a  penny  it  doesn't,"  responded  his  son,  "  and 
chance  it.  Chivey  shall  hold  the  stakes. " 

"Chivey  is  ready  and  willin',"  said  the  tiger,  holding 
out  his  palm.  "Perhaps  your  governor  will  make  it  a 
fiver. " 

"Cease  this  levity,"  said  Mr.  Murray.  "  Who  is  it  you 
have  been  fighting  with  ?  "  he  continued,  turning  to  his 
son. 

"  What's  his  name,  Chivey  ? "  demanded  the  patient. 

"Young Jack  Harkaway,  sir,  and  a  stunner  at  a  game 
stand-up  fight,"  said  the  tiger. 

"  Harkaway  !  "  exclaimed  the  shipowner  ;  "you  don't 
mean  it." 

"I  do."  t 

"Why,  this  young  Harkaway  is  going  out  in  my  ship 
the  *  Albatross/  or  he  was  going— of  course  now  that  he 
has  been  fighting  with  you,  it  is  all  over  and  I  shall  lose 
a  very  handsome  sum.  Besides  which,  the  fact  of  Mr. 
Harkaway 's  son  going  out  in  the  '  Albatross '  inspired 
confidence.  It  brought  me  passengers  and  freights  better 
than  any  advertisement  we  could  have  hit  upon.  You 
young  ruffian,  you  have  spoilt  me  completely." 

"  Wait  a  bit,  dad — wait  a  bit,"  said  the  patient. 

He  struggled  to  raise  himself  up  into  a  sitting  posture, 
and  succeeded,  but  groaned  the  while  at  the  anguish  of 
his  bruises. 

'  Going  out  in  your  ship,  you  said  ? " 
'Yes." 

'That's  the  ticket,"  observed  Chivey. 
'  He   was   going ;   but   this  disgraceful   affair   will  of 
course  spoil  it,"  said  Mr.  Murray. 

'I  don't  see  that,"  responded  Herbert. 
'Nor  I,  my  noble  governor,"  said  Chivey. 


<£#  JiOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y 

"Silence,  fellow, "said the  shipowner,  turning  round 
"Mum's  the  word,"  responded  the  tiger,  clapping  his 
hand  over  his  mouth  so  as  to  make  it  pop. 

"  He  didn't  know  me  from  Adam,"  said  Herben  Murray. 
"Are  you  sure?" 
"Yes." 

"That's  better.     I  breathe  again." 
"  Look  here,  dad,"  said  the  patient ;  "  you've  often  said 
that  I  was  a  good-for-nothing  lot." 
' '  I  said  the  bare  truth. " 

"Well,  then,  I'll  tell  you  what.     You've  often  said  you 
wanted  to  get  me  away  from  this  place  and  from  bad 
associates. " 
'I  have." 

'Let  me  go  to  sea." 
•Youl" 

'  Yes  ;  why  not  ?  " 
•  When,  when  ? " 
'In  the  'Albatross.'" 

ilr.  Murray  started  back  as  though  he  had  be«n  shot 
'  Are  you  mad  ? "  he  exclaimed. 
'I don't  think  so,"  replied  the  son  ;  ask  Chivey." 
'Not  exactly,"  said  the  tiger,   without  waiting  to  be 
asked  ;  "  I  am  proud  of  him,  sir  ;  he  is  just  about  as  art- 
ful a  card  as  you'll  meet  with  between  Portsmouth  and 
Tattersall's." 
And  then  he  shouted — 

"  Oh  a  life  on  the  ocean  wave, 
And  a  home  on  the  rolling  deep." 

"Hold  your  tongue,  and  leava,  the  room,"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Murray. 

"  Quite  so  ;  quick  march,"  said  Chivey. 

The  patient,  however,  winked  at  his  tiger  to  wait,  and 
Chivey,  to  use  his  own  expressive  form  of  speech,  knew 
his  book  too  well  to  go  away. 

The  young  rake  did  not  like  being  left  alone  with  his 
father,  for  he  could  not  hold  his  own  so  well  when  the 
shipowner  took  to  lecturing  him. 

The  occasional  interjections  of  the  tiger  helped  him  out. 

"Well,  what  do  you  say,  governor?"  said  young 
Murray ;  "you  have  wished  me  dead  a  hundred  times,  I 
know." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  39 

"I!" 

"Yes;  I  have  caused  you  such  a  lot   of  worry  and 

trouble,  that  you  Couldn't  help  it." 

"My  boy,  my  boy,"  exclaimed  the  shipowner,  "you 
don't  know  what  you  are  saying. " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do,  and  if  you  really  want  to  get  rid  of  me, 
why,  let  me  sail  in  the  'Albatross.'" 

"What  for?" 

"To  cry  quits  then  with  that  young  beast  who  has 
decorated  me  with  black  and  blue  spots  like  this." 

Bland  Mr.  Murray's  eyes  flashed  fire  at  this. 

"I  don't  object  to  your  crying  quits  with  him,"  hesaid, 
"only  you  mustn't  go  in  the  'Albatross.'" 

"Why?" 

"  Because  I  won't  allow  it.  Ask  any  thing  of  me  you 
will,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Murray,  speaking  now  with  un- 
feigned emotion,  "anything  but  that,  and  I  will  not  re- 
fuse you." 

"  Give  me  some  money,  then." 

"There." 

And  promptly  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  the  ship- 
owner placed  two  bank  notes  in  his  son's  hand. 

"  I  must  go  now,  Herbert,"  he  said,  "but  I  will  look  in 
to-morrow,  and  if  you  still  want  to  go  to  sea,  when  you 
are  better,  you  shall  go." 

"But  not  in  the  'Albatross ? "  demanded  his  son. 

"No,  not  for  the  world  in  the  'Albatross,'"  said  Mr. 
Murray,  hastily. 

And  he  vanished. 


"Unhappy  boy,"  exclaimed  the  shipowner,  "he  little 
thinks  what  it  is  he  asks.  The  '  Albatross  ! '  I  would  al- 
most as  lief  see  him  in  his  coffin,  for  then,  at  least,  I 
should  know  the  end  of  him.  But  there  I  should  not 
know  what  sufferings  might  be  in  store  for  him.  My 
poor  boy  !  My  poor  boy  !  " 

And  the  old  rascal  actually  wrung  his  hands  in  anguish 
at  the  thought. 

Here  was  one  who  did  not  hesitate,  for  the  sake  of 
gain,  to  risk  the  lives  of  numbers  of  honest  men,  and  yet 
who  was  filled  with  tenderness  for  his  own  son. 


30  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HA  RKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  How  much  do  you  think  he  has  given  me  ?  "  asked 
young  Murray. 

'Twenty  quid,  governor?" 
« Right.     Will  that  pull  us  through  ?  " 
'Of  course  it  wilL" 
«  And  leave  us  a  bit  to  the  good  ? " 
•Yes." 

'Then  what  do  you  say  to  sailing  to-morrow  night?  " 
'By  the  'Albatross'?"  asked  Chi vey. 
'Yes." 

'I'm  game,"  responded  Chivey,  with  a  chuckle;  "if 
it's  only  to  take  a  rise  out  of  the  old  gentleman  who  was 
so  down  upon  that  identical  point. " 

"And  I  mean  to  go,  Chivey,"  said  Herbert  Murray, 
"  to  take  it  out  of  young  Jack  Harkaway. " 

"Once  alone  with  him  on  board  your  father's  own 
ship,  you  will  be  able  to  do  as  you  like  with  that  fighting 
cock." 

"That's  just  my  meaning,  Chivey.  Ill  be  master 
there." 

"  To-morrow  we  sail,  then,  governor?" 
"To-morrow  we  sail,  Chivey. " 


CHAPTER  VIL 

THE  ORPHAN  MAKES  HIS  BOW — THE    LAST  NIGHT    ON    SHORE- 
MISCHIEF  BREWING. 

THE  news  of  the  sudden  departure  of  the  "Albatross" 
startled  our  friends,  the  Harkaways,  considerably. 

Young  Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood  no  sooner  heard  the 
rumour,  than  they  went  straight  to  Mr.  Murray's  office  to 
inquire  into  the  truth  of  it. 

Here  they  encountered  a  little  old  gentlemen  of  eccen- 
tric appearance. 

"Are  you  waiting  to  see  Mr.  Murray,  young  gentle- 
men ?  " 

"Yes,  sir,"  responded  Jack. 

"So  am  I." 

"The  same  errand  as  ourselves,  probably,"  said  Harry 
Girdwood.  "  We  wish  to  know  if  the  report  is  true. " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  31 

'  About  the  '  Albatross '  sailing  to-morrow  ?  " 
'Yes." 
'So  do  I." 

*  Do  you  go  in  the  '  Albatross '  ?  "  asked  Jack. 
'Yes,"  returned  the  eccentric  little   man;  "although 
my  line  of  life  has,  hitherto,  been  cast  in  different  places, 
yet  I  feel  that  I  was  really  and  truly  born  for  the  sea. " 
'  I  hope  you  may  like  it,  sir. " 
'Sure  to." 

'I  hope  it  may  like  you." 
'  Why  should  it  not  ?  " 

'Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  you  have  been  to 
sea  ?  " 

"Never — that  is,  never  further  than  Gravesend — by 
water,  and  I  have  never  been  unwell.  It  is  almost  the 
sea  there,  you  know." 

"Almost  like  the  sea,"  said  young  Jack,  winking  at 
Harry. 

"  And  you  didn't  feel  at  all  sea-sick,  sir  ?  "  asked  Harry. 
"Not  a  bit,  not  a  bit." 

The  two  boys  elevated  their  eyebrows,  expressive  of 
great  wonderment. 

' '  Then  there  is  no  doubt  about  it,  sir,  the  sea  is  your 
proper  element." 

'  So  I  believe,  so  I  believe.     Have  you  been  to  sea  ?  " 
'Oh  yes,"  said  both  at  once. 
'How  far?" 

'A  long  way  beyond  Gravesend." 
•Indeed?"' 

'Yes,  as  far  as  Australia." 
'Oh!" 

The  stranger  eyed  the  two  boys  askance. 
Evidently  he  was  in  doubt  upon  the  subject 
"  Australia  is  a  very  long  way." 

"Well,"  said  young  Jack,  stroking  his  chin  compla- 
cently— was  he  trying  to  coax  on  his  beard? — "it  is  what 
one  may  call  a  goodish  step." 

"  Humph ! "  said  the  eccentric  little  man ;  "  and  you  are 
going  too,  in  the  '  Albatross  '  ?  " 
"Yes,  sir." 
' '  Passengers  ? " 

"No,"  said  Harry  Girdwood  ;  "  we  are  officers." 
"Indeed." 


32  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"And  we  hope  that  we  may  be  able  to  contribute 
towards  making  your  voyage  as  agreeable  as  possible. " 

"That's  very  kind  of  you.  The  fact  is,  gentlemen, 
sometimes  I  am  very  sad  ;  my  fate  I  consider  a  hard  one." 

"  I  am  sorry  for  you,  sir,"  said  young  Jack ;  "but  why 
is  your  fate  so  hard  ?  " 

"The  fact  is,  young  gentlemen,"  answered  the  old 
fellow,  "  I  am  an  orphan." 

' '  How  sad. " 

"Yes,  I  am  an  orphan,  but  my  instinct  always  pointed 
to  a  maritime  career.  My  grandfather  was  a  nautical 
man. " 

"Oh,  indeed  ;  fought  with  Nelson  at  Trafalgar,  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing  ?  "  said  impudent  young  Jack. 

"Why,  no,  not  exactly,"  answered  the  elderly  orphan; 
"  he  was  a  species  of  nautical  man — a  kind  of  custom- 
house officer — what  is  called  a  tide-waiter." 

Harry's  eyes  twinkled,  and  he  exchanged  a  wink  with 
his  larkish  comrade. 

' '  That  settles  it,  sir,  in  my  opinion  ;  you  were,  no 
doubt,  born  a  sailor,  Mr. — Mr. — I  haven't  the  honour  of 
knowing  your  name." 

"Figgins — Mark  Antony  Figgins,  late  of  Cow  Cross, 
tea  merchant.  Families  supplied  wholesale  and  retail." 

"Dear  me ! " 

"The  name  is  familiar  to  you?"  said  Mr.  Figgins. 

"Yes,  indeed." 

"I  don't  wonder  at  that,"  said  the  orphan,  with  con- 
scious pride,  "  for  our  emporium  was  noted  far  and  wide. 
We  made  such  a  show  at  Christmas,  that  it  was  quite  the 
talk  of  the  neighbourhood." 

"I  dare  say." 

"Well,  well,"  said  Mr.  Figgins,  after  a  certain  lapse  of 
time,  "Mr.  Murray  does  not  appear  to  be  coming.  Sup- 
pose that  we  adjourn  to  my  hotel,  and  leave  word?" 

"Where  are  you  staying,  sir?" 

"At  the  'Royal'." 

Young  Jack  pulled  a  very  long  and  serious  face. 

"It  is  a  good  house,  I  believe,  is  it  not?  " 

"Well,  yes;  only  it  bears  a  very  peculiar  reputation," 
said  Jack. 

"Dear  me,  you  excite  my  curiosity,"  said  Fig-gins. 
"Tell  me  why/' 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  33 

f'Wby,  people  say  that — really,  I  can't  tell  you." 

"Oh,  do— do,  pray,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Figgins.  "I  am 
most  anxious  to  know." 

"  Well,  then,  they  pretend  that  it  is  haunted. " 

"Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  Harry  Gird  wood,  "that  is  a 
capital  joke,  sir." 

"We  don't  quite  believe  in  ghosts  in  this  half  of  the 
century,"  said  Mr.  Figgins. 

They  were  leaving  Mr.  Murray's  office,  when  they  en- 
countered Mr.  Mole,  who  was  just  coming  in  search  at 
them. 

Now  young  Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood  had  never  ceased 
to  be  to  the  worthy  old  gentleman  the  teases  which  we 
have  already  known  them,  yet  Mr.  Mole  could  not  con- 
template without  pain  the  prospect  of  parting  with  them. 

"  Mr.  Mole,"  said  young  Jack,  presenting  his  tutor ; 
"my  best  friend.  Mr.  Figgins,  a  fellow  traveller,  sir," he 
added  to  Mr.  Mole. 

"Proud  to  make  your  acquaintance,  sir,"  said  Mole. 
"  Hope  you'll  enjoy  the  society  of  my  young  friends.  I 
assure  you,  sir,  it  grieves  me  to  part  with  them." 

"So  you  are  about  parting?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  have  been  with  young  Jack  all  his  life,  and 
now  have  to  part  with  him  ;  he  goes  on  his  travels  with- 
out any  of  his  old  protectors. " 

And  the  old  gentleman  wiped  a  tear  from  his  eye. 

"We  were  just  going  to  my  hotel  to  dine ;  will  you 
honour  us  with  your  company?  "  said  Figgins. 

Mr.  Mole  was  nothing  loth,  so  off  they  all  went  And 
a  very  jolly  dinner  it  was. 

So  jolly  that  only  a  new  chapter  can  do  full  justice  to 
the  particulars. 


« Harry ! " 

'  Hullo  ! " 

'  Don't  bawl  out,"  said  young  Jack,  "but  listen." 

'  I'm  all  ears,  as  our  orphan  might  say.     Drive  on." 

'  Well,  we  shall  soon  say  good-bye  to  our  friends,  Mr. 

Mole  included,  and  as  this  will  be  our  last  night  on  shore, 

it  must  be  a  jolly  one." 
"It  must" 
"  I'm  on  for  a  lark." 
3 


34  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  I'm  there,"  said  Harry.  "  A  lark  with  old  Mole  and 
the  interesting  orphan." 

"Yes." 

That  poor,  tender  orphan  was  doomed  to  have  a  hard 
time  of  it  with  young  Jack  and  Harry  the  last  night  they 
remained  in  old  England. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

THE      DINNER     PARTY — THE     HAUNTED     ROOM     AND     THE      RED 
RIDING    HOOD   GHOST — A    SCRAMBLE   WITH   THE    HAIRY   GHOST. 

THE  bottle  was  circulating  very  freely  at  the  head- 
quarters of  the  Harkaway  family. 

We  don't  mean  to  imply  that  our  young  friends,  Jack 
and  Harry,  were  indulging  ;  they  contented  themselves 
with  plying  Mr.  Mole  and  the  orphan. 

To  do  them  justice,  both  gentlemen  wanted  but  little 
persuasion  to  make  them  merry. 

Mr.  Mole  was  on  his  legs  for  the  first  toast. 

"  Bumpers  round,  if  you  please,"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man, in  his  most  grandiloquent  style  ;  "I  give  you  'The 
Sovereign '. " 

"That's  for  pocket  money  on  our  voyage,"  said  Harry, 
in  an  audible  whisper  to  Jack. 

"No,  no,"  replied  young  Jack,  in  the  same  tones  ;  "it's 
the  seven  and  sixpence  Mr.  Mole  owes  me,  but  I  haven't 
got  change." 

"  Hear,  hear  !  very  well  said." 

"You  mistake  me,  Jack,  my  boy,"  said  Mr.  Mole.  "  I 
don't  refer  to  vulgar  dross,  but  to  our  gracious  sovereign, 
one  that  we  never  want  to  change." 

The  toast  was  then  drunk  with  appropriate  honours. 

"  I  have  now  to  propose  a  toast  which  will  be  received 
with  no  less  enthusiasm  than  the  last " 

"Hear,  hear!" 

"Thank  you— than  the  last.  The  health  I  have  to  pro- 
pose, you  will  no  doubt  have  guessed." 

"  Guest  1"  exclaimed  young  Jack,  "he  means  our 
host. " 

"  It  sounds  like  a  riddle,  for  all  the  world,"  said  Harry. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  35 

"  Really "  began  Mr.  Mole. 

"I  can  give  you  a  better  one  than  that,"  said  young 
Jack.  "  If  a  herring  and  a  half  cost  three-ha'pence,  why 
is -Mr.  Mole  like  a  rhinoceros  ?  " 

"Really!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Mole,  looking  around  him 
in  the  greatest  indignation  ;  "  I  never  heard " 

"  Never  heard  it !  "  said  young  Jack.  "  I  should  think 
not.  It's  original,  I  assure  you." 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  said  Harry. 

"Upon  my  life!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Mole,  "Jack,  this  is 
too  bad,  and  on  the  eve  of  your  leaving  us,  really " 

"  Don't  mind,  sir,"  said  Jack,  coolly;  "I'll  forgive  you. 
I  had  finished." 

"You!" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Jack,  innocently;  "that  was  all  my 
riddle." 

"Jack,  Jack,"  began  Mr.  Mole,  "I'll " 

"  Dear,  dear  me,"  said  Mr.  Figgins,  greatly  alarmed  , 
"  it  is  all  a  mistake,  gentlemen.  You  don't  understand, 
Mr.  Cole " 

"Mole,  sir." 

"  Mr.  Pole,  I  beg  pardon.  Mr.  Harkaway  thought  you 
alluded  to  the  interruption  of  his  friend,  and  so  he 
said " 

"That's  it,"  said  young  Jack,  "you  have  got  it,  Mr. 
Figgins." 

"  I  am  sure  no  offence  was  meant  to  Mr.  Pole " 

"  Mole,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman,  quite  exas- 
perated. "MOLE,  Mole,  sir. " 

"  How  well  Mr.  Mole  spells,"  said  young  Jack  to  Harry, 
in  audible  admiration. 

"Wonderful  man,"  responded  Harry. 

"You  may  call  this  joking,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  fiercely; 
"but  I  call  it  downright " 

"A  glass  of  rum,  Mr.  Mole." 

This  brought  a  smile  on  Mr.  Mole's  face. 

He  could  never  refuse  good  liquor,  so  this  glass  stopped 
his  indignation. 

They  plied  him  with  a  glass  or  two,  and  he  forgot  all 
about  the  burking  of  his  speech. 

"There,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Figgins,  "  now  we  are 
getting  comfortable  again.  The  bottle  is  there  beside 
you,  sir;  fill  up  and  pass  it,  Mr.  Dole " 


36  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  Mole,  sir,"  exclaimed  the  old  gentleman. 

"Of  course,  Mole,  I  do  forget  names.  Bth,  i  must 
bring  my  artificial  memory  to  bear  upon  it" 

"Do  you  believe  in  artifical  memory,  then? "asked 
Jack. 

"Yes." 

"  How  does  it  work  ?  " 

"Simple  enough,"  returned  Mr.  Figgins.  "For  in- 
stance, here  is  Mr.  Foal ;  now  I  recollect  I  have  a  bad 
cold  in  the  throat,  on  the  day  that  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  him  for  the  first  time.  N  I  am  hoarse.  Now  do 
you  see  ?  Hoarse — foal — see  I " 

"Capitall" 

"Wonderful,"  cried  Harry ;  "a  grand  system." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Figgins.  ' '  Let's  see  what  was  it 
—oh,  hoarse — foal,  of  course — Mokes  on  memory  is  an  in- 
fallible cure  for  my  little  drawback. " 

"Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  savagely,  "only  my  name 
doesn't  happen  to  be  Foal." 

"  Pass  the  decanter,  Harry,"  said  Jack. 


Both  the  gentlemen  were  getting  what  young  Jack 
called  "nice  and  mellow"  by  this  time,  and  Mr.  Mole  was 
indulging  in  his  old  propensity  for  pulling  the  long  bow. 

'  Yes,  my  dear  sir,  the  day  I  lost  that  right  leg,  I " 

'Advertised  in  all  the  papers  for  it,"  suggested  Jack. 

'What?" 

'  Beg  pardon,  sir,  I  misunderstood, "  replied  Jack. 

'  That  day,"  resumed  Mr.  Mole,  "  I  slew  ten  men  with 
my  own  hand." 

:  Ten  !  "  quoth  Mr.  Figgins,  looking  quite  frightened. 

'Ten!" 

'  How  dreadful. " 

'Glorious,  sir,  glorious,"  said  Warrior  Mole,  dilating  on 
his  favourite  theme;  "I  wasn't  then  the  miserable  old 
wretch  that  you  see  me  now." 

"Come,  come,  sir,"  remonstrated  Mr.  Figgins. 

"  I  repeat  it,  miserable  old  wretch.     Single-handed,  sir, 
I  kept  three-and-twenty  of  'em  at  bay  ;  they  were  de- 
moralised, sir,  demoralised,  and  I  played  at  skittles  with 
'em,  sir,  damme." 
Mr.  Figginj  was  struck  dumb  with  admiration. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  37 

"Thfe  is  a  most  enjoyable  day  in  my  life, "said  he ; 
"most  enjoyable.  I  shall  never  think  of  this  day  with- 
out associating  the  name  of  Dole  with  that  of " 

"Sir,"  said  Mole,  rising,  "  my  name  is " 

"Norval,"  said  Jack. 

"Goodness  me,"  murmured  Mr.  Figgins,  sinking  into 
his  shell.  "I  beg  your  pardon.  The  wine  is  near  you 
and  time  is  pressing." 

Time  to  go. 

Mr.  Mole  was  by  no  means  firm  upon  his  wooden  pins. 

"  How  very  uneven  your  floor  is,"  he  said,  with  a  hic- 
cup, to  his  host. 

Mr.  Figgins  gave  him  his  arm,  and  they  steadied  each 
other. 

But  it  was  no  use,  and  down  went  Mole  and  the  orphan. 

Mr.  Mole  was  not  in  a  fitting  state  to  walk  through  the 
streets,  and  so  the  boys  proposed  that  he  should  take  a 
room  in  the  hotel. 

"  If  Mr.  Bole  likes  to  accept  it,"  said  Mr.  Figgins,  "he 
can  have  one  of  the  beds  in  my  room.  It  is  a  double- 
bedded  room." 

"Very  much  'bliged,  old  man,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  whose 
utterance  had  become  strangely  thick. 

"  Is  that  your  bedroom  ?"  asked  young  Jack,  pointing 
to  an  inner  apartment. 

"Yes,"  answered  Mr.  Figgins,  the  orphan,  "thatish 
my  b-room.  I  mean  b-droom.  Dear,  how  very  singular 
I  can't  say  b-b-bed-room." 

"That's  the  very  room  I  was  warned  against  beyond 
all  others,"  said  young  Jack. 

"What  for?" 

"Someone  declares  that  at  certain  stated  intervals,  a 
huge  hairy  monstrosity,  half  man,  half  beast,  is  seen 
haunting  the  place." 

The  orphan  opened  his  eyes  rather  wider  than  usual. 

"What  a  sniglar,  I  mean  sing'lar  shtory,"  he  lisped. 

Mr.  Mole  giggled. 

"It's  like  Re-Re-Riding  Hood,"  he  said. 

And  then  subduing  his  voice  to  a  growl,  he  replied  to 
himself — 

"  All  the  better  to  shee  with,  my  dear.     He  he,  he  !" 

"  Hoh,  hoh  !  "  laughed  Figgins. 

Young  Jack  and  Harry  enjoyed  this  mightily. 


38  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  AND 

"Ah,"  said  the  former ;  "it  is  all  very  well  for  you  to 
talk  like  that,  but  you  would  not  grin,  gentlemen,  if  you 
really  did  see  this  horrible  thing." 

He  gave  a  most  natural  shudder  as  he  spoke. 

The  gentle  orphan  looked  tipsily  alarmed. 

"Shertanly  unpleasank,"  he  said. 

Here  he  became  conscious  of  a  certain  thickness  and 
^regularity  in  his  speech,  and  he  made  a  definite  effort  to 
steady  himself. 

"But  you  don't  believe  in  any  thing  so  ridiculous  as 
ghosts  ? '  said  Jack. 

"  No,  no." 

"Well,  then,  I  shall  wish  you  good-night,  sir,"  said 
Jack. 

"Good-night." 

"  Good-night,"  said  Harry. 

Mr.  Mole  was  beyond  replying. 

He  was  carefully  tucked  up,  and  playing  a  very  inhar- 
monious tune  indeed  upon  his  nasal  organ. 

"It's  snorer,  dear  snorer,"  sang  young  Jack,  as  they 
descended  the  stairs  of  the  hotel,  paraphrasing  Tom  Moore, 
or  somebody  else. 

They  stopped  upon  the  next  landing,  and  gave  a  hearty, 
but  silent  laugh,  which  half  threatened  to  choke  them. 
'  Isn't  it  prime  ?  "  exclaimed  young  Jack. 
'Jolly." 

'  What  a  rich  treat  the  young  and  tender  orphan  is  ! " 

'Beats  Mole." 

'Into  a  cocked  hat.  Oh,  we'll  have  some  good  fun 
out  of  him." 

"Let's  get  back  again  sharp,  or  we  shalj  miss  the  oyster 
shells.'^ 

Slipping  rapidly  up  stairs  again,  and  into  the  lately 
vacated  supper-rooms,  they  found  the  light  extinguished. 

Yet  the  reflection  from  the  inner  room — the  bedroom, 
where  Mole  was  snoring  and  Mr.  Figgins  was  still  engaged 
in  undressing — sufficed  to  light  them  upon  the  nefarious 
project  which  now  occupied  their  thoughts. 

"Here's  the  dish." 

"Hand  it  over." 

«' Gently!" 

"  Hush ! " 

Young  Jack  passed  the  dish  of  empty  oyster  shells  on 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  39 

to  his  companion,  who  hurried  noiselessly  to  the  door 
and  proceeded  with  all  possible  dispatch  to  pave  the  pas- 
sage with  them. 

This  done,  they  went  down  stairs,  and  waited  in  the 
lobby  of  the  hotel  for  awhile. 


Mr.  Figgins  had  just  completed  his  bed-toilet. 

"  What  an  extrorny  tale  that  wash  'bout  wooden  legs 
and  the  ghosk — I  mean  jost ;  sniglar  thing  I  can't  say  jhost 
— kost — confound  the  thing  !  gossush  snivelling  in  m' 
mouth — brumgoil — mean  gumboil,  I  sposh — Red  Re-n 
Hood.  Fancy  finding  wooden  legs  and  wolf  dressed  up 
in  granny's  nightcap  in  bed  jush  ash  you  wash — blow 
that  gumboil — jush  ash  you  wash  tumblin'  in — hah  !  oh  !  " 

He  had  scrambled  under  the  sheets  when — oh,  mercies  ! 
— something  hairy  touched  his  leg. 

He  started  back. 

There,  in  his  bed,  lay  a  long,  gaunt,  hairy  form,  with 
a  hideous  head  enshrouded  in  a  large  frilled  nightcap. 

Mr.  Figgins  gazed  in  horror  at  the  vision. 

Was  the  hideous  object  alive  ? 

Yes. 

It  moved. 

Spellbound  for  awhile,  the  old  orphan  presently  re- 
covered himself  sufficiently  to  shrink  backwards  off  the 
bed. 

The  hairy  monster  sat  up,  slowly,  cautiously. 

Its  huge  jaws  opened,  displaying  a  glistening  set  of 
sharp,  white  teeth,  and  a  blood-red  tongue. 

Mr.  Figgins  gasped. 

The  effects  of  the  wine  were  dispatched  instanter  with 
the  awful  fright. 

He  retreated  from  the  bed. 

The  hairy  monster  advanced. 

Figgins  retreated  to  the  door  backwards. 

On  came  the  ghost. 

"Mr.  Cole— wooden  legs— M-M-Mr.  C-Cole !  M-Mr. 
Coke,"  he  stammered. 

Mole  snored. 

' '  M-m-murder  !  "  gasped  the  affrighted  orphan. 

But  he  had  not  voice  enough  left  in  him  to  give  the 
alarm. 


40  YO  UNG  JACK  HARK  A  WAY A  N't) 

He  tried  to  cry  out,  but  the  sound  died  away  upon  his 
lips. 

Backwards  he  went,  trembling  and  shaking,  into  the 

adjoining-  room. 

On  came  the  hairy  form,  that  looked  half-human,  half- 
devilish,  for  Mr.  Figgins  perceived,  to  his  horror,  as  the 
thing  slid  from  the  bed,  that  its  legs  and  feet  were  long, 
sinewy,  and  covered  with  brownish  shaggy  hair. 

"Mr.  Dole,"  gasped  the  hapless  grocer,  "  I  want  you, 
wooden  leg  Dole — my  dear  Dole,  I  want  you  badly.  Oh, 
come  to  my  help,  or  this  monster  will  eat  up  a  poor,  help- 
less orphan." 

The  poor  orphan  did  indeed  want  help. 

Meanwhile,  the  hirsute  visitor,  grinning  upon  its  des- 
tined victim,  like  some  evil  sprite  just  let  loose  from  be- 
low, advanced  with  outstretched  arms. 

And  fearfully  weird-like  did  it  look  in  the  long  white 
gown  in  which  it  was  enveloped. 

"  Dole  !  "  gasped  Figgins,  his  voice  growing  fainter  and 
fainter.  "Oh,  help  a  poor  orphan." 

The  hairy  monster  hopped  suddenly  forward,  and  Fig- 
gins,  with  a  wild  shriek,  fled  to  the  door. 

The  monster  jumped  after  him,  and  Figgins  darted  to 
the  other  side  of  the  table. 

Now  he  was  near  the  chimney,  and  here  were  the  bell- 
ropes. 

He  gave  a  succession  of  fierce  jerks  at  the  rope  and  a 
deafening  clatter  was  heard  below  as  the  rope  came  away 
in  his  hands. 

He  rushed  to  the  other  side  of  the  chimney. 

After  him  bounded  his  tormentor,  with  a  hop  and  a 
jump. 

Figgins  made  for  the  bedroom  and  pounced  upon  Mole. 

"Mr.  Cole!  Mr.  Cole!"  he  yelled,  dragging  the  old 
gentleman  half  out  of  bed. 

"  Hallo  !  " 

"  Look  up  !  here's  the  devil  come  for  you,  Dole — I  mean 
the  ghost  of  Red  Riding  Hood's  wolf." 

Mole  rubbed  his  eyes  and  stared  towards  the  door. 

There  stood  the  awful  visitor,  grinning  diabolically. 

Mole  slid  from  the  bed,  and  the  hairy  ghost  retreated. 

"Go  and  fight  it  out,"  said  Mole,  not  quite  understand- 
ing what  it  all  meant 


ff2S  BOY  TINKER.  41 

"  But,  my  dear  sir,  I  am  an  orphan  and  can't  fight." 

"Come  and  see  what  it  is,  then,"  said  Mole,  as  Figgins 
took  hold  of  his  guest  by  the  arm,  and  together  they  trem- 
blingly advanced  into  the  dining-room. 

Gone. 

The  hirsute  monster  had  disappeared. 

"  It  must  have  been  fancy  ;  took  too  much  rum,"  said 
Mr.  Mole. 

"No  fancy,"  moaned  Figgins.  "I  know  I  saw  it,  a 
dreadful  monster  with  large,  sharp  teeth." 

"Well,"  said  Mole,  "you  look  after  him;  I'll  go  to 
bed." 

' '  No,  no,  my  dear  Dole,  don't  go  to  bed  and  leave  a 
poor  orphan.  Ha  !  look,  there  he  is  coming." 

"Ah,  yes— oh!" 

The  monster  had  been  hiding  behind  the  window  cur- 
tains, and  now  he  suddenly  pounced  out  upon  them. 

The  two  old  gentlemen  dodged  away,  and  did  all  they 
possibly  could  to  avoid  the  ghostly  enemy. 

But  the  latter  was  fearfully  nimble. 

At  length,  Mr.  Mole  was  so  fortunate  as  to  drag  the 
room  door  open,  and  out  he  ran,  followed  by  Figgins. 

Mr.  Mole  stumbled  over  the  oyster  shells,  which  Harry 
and  young  Jack  had  paved  the  passage  with  so  carefully, 
but  his  wooden  legs  preserved  him  from  the  unpleasant 
consequences  which  his  companion  and  host  experienced. 

No  sooner  did  Mr.  Figgins  land  with  his  naked  feet  upon 
the  oyster  shells,  than  it  made  him  howl  with  pain. 

We  have  all  heard  how  a  cat  danced  on  hot  bricks. 
Well,  Mr.  Figgins's  terpsichorean  evolutions  beat  the 
grimalkin's  all  to  fits. 

And  the  higher  he  jumped,  the  further  his  fall,  and  there- 
fore the  more  unpleasant  the  consequences. 

"Hah,  oh!" 

"Murder,  murder!"  he  cried.  "I  am  being  cut  to 
death  with  sharp  flints." 

Now  the  alarm  was  given  generally  in  the  hotel,  and 
up  ran  waiters  and  porters,  wildly,  summoned  by  the 
clanging  of  the  bell,  and  the  fearful  cries  of  the  two  old 
gentlemen. 

The  hubbub  seemed  to  alarm  the  hairy  ghost  as  well, 
for  out  he  bolted,  overturning  the  two  frightened  old 
gentlemen,  and  bounding  down  the  stairs. 


42  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

A  yell  of  alarm  came  from  the  advancing  waiters,  as 
the  hairy  ghost,  with  long  night-gown  on,  and  tall  night- 
cap on  head,  rushed  precipitately  at  them,  and  overturn- 
ing about  three  at  a  bound,  sent,  by  the  force  of  the  shock, 
not  less  than  a  dozen  of  them  falling  head  over  heels  down 
the  stairs. 

Shouts,  shrieks,  and  cries  of  alarm. 

Feaiful  hubbub. 

And  when  this  mob  of  falling  men,  a  sort  of  avalanche 
of  waiters,  rolled  to  the  bottom  of  the  stairs,  young  Jack 
and  his  companions  were  just  going  out  at  the  hotel  door. 

But  before  they  got  out,  the  hairy  ghost  shot  past  them 
into  the  street,  his  long  night-gown  torn  to  ribbons,  and 
his  night-cap  hanging  round  his  neck  by  the  strings. 


"  There  goes  Nero  !  "  cried  Jack  to  Harry. 

"  Hasn't  he  had  a  lark  with  the  poor  orphan  ?  "  said 
Harry  Girdwood  ;  "  and  what  a  pile  of  waiters  he  has 
left  on  the  mat  at  the  bottom  of  the  stairs." 

"  We  had  better  get  him  home,  and  hide  him  away." 

"Yes,  let's  after  him,  or  he'll  frighten  some  old  woman 
or  policeman  to  death." 

"Mole    and    the    orphan   will    never    guess   it's   oH 

XT  >»  ° 

Nero. 

"No;  but  what  puzzled  me  was,  how  you  smuggled 
Nero  into  the  bedroom." 

"Don't  you  remember,  that  I  went  into  the  bedroom 
to  wash  my  hands  just  before  dinner  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"Well,  I  smuggled  him  into  the  hotel  just  before 
that. " 

"On  the  second  floor?" 

"Yes." 

"Hah,  I  see." 

"  I  then  made  him  get  in  bed,  and  I  tucked  him  up 
comfortably  in  Mr.  Figgins'  flea-bag,  fixed  the  wolfs 
mask  over  his  face,  and  then  went  back  into  the  dining- 
room  to  prepare  for  larks." 

Verily,  it  looked  anything  but  promising  for  the  poor 
orphan's  peace  of  mind,  if  he  had  to  accompany  these 
two  high-spirited  practical  jokers  on  a  voyage  in  the 
"Albatross." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  43 

There  they  would  have  scarcely  any  other  resource 
than  victimising  the  middle-aged  orphan. 
.    Poor  Figgins  !     Poor  orphan  ! 

He  merits  our  fullest  sympathy,  and  he  has  it 


CHAPTER  IX. 

MOTHER  AND  SON — THE  LOVE  GIFTS — NEVER  UNTIL  DEATH 
SHALL  PART  US,  AND  SO  FORTH — THE  ' '  ALBATROSS  "  WEIGHS 
ANCHOR. 

"JACK,  Jack,  oh,  my  own  dear  boy,  pray  don't  go," 
replied  Mrs.  Harkaway. 

"  Why,  mother,  what  on  earth  has  got  hold  of  you  ?" 

"  A  horrible  presentiment,  my  darling." 

"That's  very  strong  language,  mother,"  said  young 
Jack. 

"Not  stronger  than  my  feelings  warrant,"  answered 
Mrs.  Harkaway  ;  "  oh,  my  darling  boy,  pray  be  ruled  by 
me." 

' '  Nay,  mother, "  answered  her  son,  ' '  you  ask  too  much. 
I  have  a  little  of  your  own  independence  of  spirit,  and  I 
don't  want  to  have  to  rely  upon  you  or  my  father  all  my  life. 
I  want  to  show  you  that  I  am  not  unworthy  to  bear  the 
name  of  Harkaway." 

His  mother  appeared  distressed  at  these  words. 

Yet,  at  the  same  time,  the  sentiment  filled  her  with 
pride  for  her  boy. 

The  old  adventurous  spirit  of  the  Harkaways  burnt  in 
young  Jack's  breast  as  fiercely  as  ever  it  had  done  in  his 
father's. 

Neither  time  nor  altered  circumstances  could  change  it. 

It  is  a  saying  both  trite  and  true,  that  what  is  bred  in 
the  bone  must  come  out  in  the  flesh. 


"Jack." 

The  speaker  was  his  comrade,  Harry  Girdwood. 

"Come  in,  Harry." 

"Have  you  any  news ? "  said  Mrs.  Harkaway. 

"Yes." 


44  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"Important?" 

"Very." 

"Out  with  it,  Harry,"  said  young  Jack,  impatiently; 
"  for  goodness'  sake,  don't  beat  about  the  bush." 

"Captain  Robinson  is  taken  suddenly  ill  and  he  can't 
start. " 

"  I'm  sorry  for  Captain  Robinson,"  said  Jack. 

"And  so  am  I,"  said  his  mother  ;  "only  I  am  glad  that 
the  ship  can't  sail. " 

"  Oh,  but  the  'Albatross  '  must  sail  all  the  same,"  said 
Harry  Gird  wood  ;  "it  is  bound  by  contract  to  start  to- 
night, it  appears,  and  we  must  be  on  board  before  eight 
o'clock. 

Mrs.  Harkaway's  spirits  sank  to  zero  at  once. 
'  How  can  it  sail  without  a  captain  ? "  she  asked. 
'They  have  found  a  substitute,"  replied  Harry. 
'  A  good  man  ? " 

'  Oh,  yes,  a  capital  sailor,  according  to  all  accounts. " 
'  His  name  ?  " 
'  Deering." 

'Well,"  said  young  Jack,  "if  he  is  only  as  good  a 
sailor  as  the  poor  fellow  who  was  to  have  commanded; 
we  can't  ask  for  anything  better." 

When  Mrs.  Harkaway  had  left  the  room,  the  two  boys 
set  to  work  about  their  preparations. 

These  were  of  the  most  elaborate  nature. 

They  had  not  only  all  their  traps  and  baggage  to  get 
on  board,  but  also  to  make  everything  snug  for  Nero,  for 
young  Jack  could  not  leave  his  faithful  old  monkey 
behind. 

Nero  had  grown  greatly  attached  to  his  young  master, 
and  one  and  all  predicted  that  if  Jack  left  him  behind,  he 
would  pine  away  and  die. 

Objections  were  naturally  raised  to  this  ;  but  old  Jack's 
liberality  smoothed  away  all  apprehensions. 

Nero  was  not  all. 

There  was  Jack's  boy  Tinker  to  be  got  on  board,  and 
Tinker's  new  valet,  Bogey. 

However,  all  was  settled  to  their  perfect  satisfaction. 

And  now  young  Jack  had  to  bid  farewell  to  little 
Emily ! 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  45 

Two  young  couples  were  walking  at  sunset  in  a  retired 
suburb  of  the  town. 

They  were  all  of  one  party ;  yet  they  kept  sufficient 
distance  between  them  to  prevent  their  conversation  being 
overheard. 

It  was  a  tender  topic  upon  which  they  were  engaged. 

"Jack,  darling,"  said  little  Emily,  "I've got  something 
here  for  you. " 

She  produced  a  small  object  wrapped  in  a  piece  of 
paper,  and  pressed  into  his  hand. 

"Don't  open  it,  dear,  until — until  you  are  gone." 

She  had  some  difficulty  in  getting  this  word  out. 

Young  Jack  silently  squeezed  her  hand. 

"  I've  nothing  to  give  you,  Em',"  he  said,  vainly  en- 
deavouring to  steady  his  voice,  for  he  was  in  fear  of 
shaming  his  manhood,  "unless  you'll  accept  this." 

"What  is  it?" 

"  My  portrait.  I  have  had  it  taken  expressly  for  you. 
It  isn't  a  very  good  one,  Em',  but  you'll  know  that  it  is 
meant  for  me." 

"It  shall  never  leave  me,  Jack,  day  or  night." 

"Bless  you." 

"And  you'll  never  forget  this  night  of  parting:. 
Jack?" 

"Never — never,  if  I  live  to  be  as  old  as  Methusalem." 

"And  never  forget  poor  little  Em'  that  you  leave  behind 
you  and  say  you  love  ?" 

"Never.  Can  you  believe  me  such  an  utter  duffer, 
Em'  ? " 

"And  you'll  always  wear  my  little  keepsake  round 
your  neck  ?  " 

"Always." 

She  pressed  his  arm  with  a  tender,  trembling  hand. 

They  had  turned  the  corner  now,  and  a  high  wall  hid 
them  from  the  view  of  Paquita  and  Harry  Girdwood. 

So  Master  Jack  took  the  unwarrantable  liberty  of 
pressing  her  in  his  arms  and  kissing  her  again  and  again. 

She  did  not  resist,  but  only  murmured  a  faint  protesta- 
tion. 

"Oh,  Jack,  you've  upset  my  hair  dreadfully." 

"Never  mind,  Em',  I'll  be  your  barber,  and  soon  put 
that  to  rights." 

"I  don't  mind  that,"  returned  little  Emily,  shooting 


46  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  W "A  Y  AND 

him  an  arch  look,    "  so  long  as  you  don't  practise  hair- 
dressing  upon  any  girl's  head  but  mine." 
"Never,  never." 


"  If  you  only  cared  half  as  much  for  me  as  you  pretend, 
Harry,  you  would  not  go  away  at  all." 

'I  can't  help  myself,  Paquita,"  responded  Harry. 
'  Why  not  ?  " 
'I  am  not  like  Jack." 
'  How  ?  " 

'  I  have  no  rich  parents  upon  whom  to  rely.  I  feel 
that  I  ought  to  cut  out  a  path  for  myself,  dear  Paquita, 
not  to  be  dependent  upon  the  dear,  fond  friends  who  have 
so  far  adopted  me  ;  now,  were  I  in  Jack's  place,  I  should 
talk  very  differently.  But  how  would  it  look  for  me  to 
remain  here  an  idler  and  a  dependent  when  Jack  was 
going  ?  " 

Paquita  sighed,  saying — 

"I  never  looked  upon  it  in  that  light  before,  Harry." 

"Of  course  you  didn't,  dear.  Look  here,  see  what  I 
have  got  for  you." 

"  A  crooked  sixpence  ?  " 

' '  Yes,  in  two  halves,  each  drilled  with  a  hole.  You 
must  wear  this  half  round  your  neck  for  my  sake, 
Paquita. " 

"  I  will,  Harry  dear." 

"And  only  throw  it  away  when  you  forget  poor  me, 
and  are  going  to  get  married  to  somebody  better,  better- 
looking  and  richer." 

"Hold  your  tongue,  sir,"  interrupted  Paquita;  "that 
will  never  be." 

"You  may  think  so  now,  but  you  may  change  your 
mind  some  day." 

"  If  you  never  come  back,  Harry,  I  shall  die  an  old 
maid." 

Harry  Girdwood  looked  very  serious  at  this. 

"Don't  make  any  rash  vows,  dear,  pray  don't.  I 
might  never  come  back,  and  I  would  not  have  you  sacri- 
fice your  life  to  a  memory  ;  that  would  be  too  selfish  on 
my  part." 

"  Hush,  Harry,  don't  talk  like  that,  dear." 

But  why  should  we  linger  over  this  oft-told  tale  ? 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  47 

All  that  they  are  saying  has  been  said  a  thousand — aye, 
n  million  times  before,  under  circumstances  more  or  less 
similar. 

But  never  indeed  were  young  lovers'  vows  exchanged 
with  greater  mutual  sincerity. 

****** 

The  ' '  Albatross  "  sailed. 

Captain  Deering  took  the  command,  and  every  move- 
ment, as  well  as  every  word  that  he  uttered,  showed  him 
to  be,  as  he  had  been  eulogistically  described — a  good 
sailor. 

"Huzzah!" 

"Huzzah  !" 

"Now  then,  my  lads,  give  them  one  more,"  cried  young 
Jack,  "  and  let  it  be  loud  enough  to  reach  the  shore." 

And  the  men  obeyed. 

British  sailors  have  certainly  one  specialty  in  which 
they  distance  all  possible  competition. 

This  is  cheering. 

Poor  old  Mole  with  other  friends,  had  bid  young  Jack 
good-bye  with  a  choking  voice,  and  the  old  gentleman  was 
seen  to  wipe  his  eyes  more  than  once. 

And  so  brave  young  Jack  Harkaway  bid  adieu  to  his 
country  to  seek  adventures,  and  make  his  way  in  the 
world  with  Harry  and  his  boy  Tinker. 

"We're  off,"  said  a  familiar  voice  close  at  hand,  "s'elp 
my  Jerusalem  pony." 

They  turned  simultaneously,  showing  they  recognised 
the  tones,  and  so  could  hardly  have  been  both  mistaken. 

But,  in  the  nautical  get-up  of  the  speaker,  they  failed  to 
recognise  the  tiger  Chivey. 


CHAPTER  X. 

MR.    MURRAY  AWAITS   HIS   SON — HE  GOES  AFTER  HIM  AND  FINDS 
ONLY  A   LETTER. 

MR.  MURRAY  waited. 

His  scapegrace  son  made  no  signs  of  life. 

So  he  still  waited. 

At  length  his  impatience  and  anxiety  to  hear  from  his 


48  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

wild  and  reckless  boy  got  so  far  the  better  of  his  discre- 
tion, that  he  made  up  his  mind  to  go  down  to  his  lodgings 
and  make  inquiries  about  him. 

The  door  was  opened  by  the  landlady  herself. 

"Young  Mr.  Murray,"  she  said;  "do  you  want 
him  ? " 

"Yes.  I  am  Mr.  Murray's  father,"  said  the  shipowner, 
quietly. 

' '  Oh,  you  are  ?  Then  that's  right " — she  took  a  letter 
out  of  her  pocket.  "Perhaps  you'll  pay  my  bill.  He 
left  here  the  night  after  you  called. " 

"Left?     Where  for?" 

"Can't  say.     This  letter  is  to  tell  you." 

"Give  it  to  me." 

"  When  you  have  paid  up  the  bill,"  said  the  wary  land- 
lady, "not  before." 

"Give  me  your  bill  then,  sharp — come,"  said  Mr. 
Murray. 

"Hoity  toity  !  "  said  Mrs.  Bouncer,  "  we're  in  a  hurry, 
I  should  say." 

She  held  out  her  bill,  and  he  snatched  it  most  ungal- 
lantly  from  the  lady's  hand. 

"There's  the  money — never  mind  the  receipt.  Give 
rne  the  letter,"  said  Mr.  Murray. 

She  handed  it  to  him. 

He  tore  it  open,  and  read  it  eagerly. 

As  he  read,  the  colour  forsook  his  cheek,  and  he  turned 
ashy  pale. 

His  knees  seemed  to  give  way  beneath  him,  and  reach- 
ing out,  he  caught  hold  of  the  landlady  to  prevent  him 
from  falling. 

"Goodness  'eavens  !  "  she  cried,  "he's  dead." 

"  Hullo,  what's  all  this  ?  "  cried  a  deep  voice. 

"Old  gentleman  took  ill ;  he's  fainted,"  said  the  land- 
lady. 

"What  does  he  do  here  ?  " 

"  He  came  after  his  son.  The  young  gent  have  gone 
away — flew.  He  wrote  this  letter." 

The  policeman  picked  the  letter  off  the  ground,  and 
read  it  down  by  the  aid  of  his  bull's-eye. 

It  ran  as  follows — 

"DEAR  DAD, — You  wouldn't  give  your  consent,  so  I've 


ffJS  BOY  TINKER. 


49 


gone   without  it.      Chivey   and  I  sail   to-night  in    the 
"  Albatross '  for  goodness  knows  where. 

"  Your  affectionate  son, 
"H.  M. 

"  P.  S. — Send  me  some  tin  to  one  of  your  agent  fellows 
wherever  we  stop  first " 

Mr.   Murray  still  remained  senseless  on  the  doorstep 
while  the  policeman  gazed  anxiously  at  him." 
Was  he  dead  ? 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  ORPHAN'S  PRESENTIMENT — YOUNG  JACK  AND    HARRY   FIND 
THEMSELVES     ASSISTING   IN   LEGAL   BUSINESS — TINKER     AND 

BOGEY  HAVE  A  FEW  WORDS HERBERT  MURRAY  AND  HIS  VALET 

COME  ACROSS  THEM. 

JACK  and  his  comrade,  Harry  Girdwood,  were  standing 
on  the  deck  of  the  ' '  Albatross. " 

"  Harry,  where  are  you." 

' '  Whose  voice  is  that  ?  "  said  Jack. 

"'Tis  the  voice  of  the  orphan  ;  I  hear  him  complain," 
laughed  Harry. 

"  He  was  woke  from  his  slumber  and  comes  up  again," 
laughed  Jack,  finishing  the  poetical  sentence. 

It  was  that  unprotected  individual. 

And  the  next  moment  the  head  of  Mr.  Mark  Antony 
Figgins  appeared  slowly  ascending  from  the  hatchway. 

"Oh,  there  you  are,"  he  said,  as  he  caught  sight  of  our 
heroes. 

"  What  now,  my  noble  Roman  ?  "  Jack  asked. 

"Don't  call  me  a  Roman,  please,"  entreated  Mr.  Figgins 
in  a  piteous  tone  ;  "  I  don't  feel  a  bit  like  a  noble  Roman  ; 
I  am  a  poor  sick  orphan." 

Most  certainly,  he  didn't  look  at  all  like  the  renowned 
historical  personage,  Mark  Antony,  whose  name  he  bore. 

The  orphan  had  on  a  white  cotton  night-cap. 

His  complexion  was  about  as  yellow  as  a  daffodil. 

His  nose  excepted,  which  looked  like  a  small  cherry  in 
the  centre  of  his  face. 
4 


5o  YOUNG  fA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

Altogether,  he  looked  woe-begone  in  the  extreme. 

"What's  the  matter,  old  son?"  asked  young  Jack, 
throwing  a  good  deal  of  sympathy  into  his  look  and  tone. 

"I  hardly  know,"  responded  the  tea-dealer,  dolefully, 
"but  I  don't  feel  very  happy." 

"You  don't  look  at  all  well,  Mr.  Figgins,  that's 
certain,"  joined  in  Harry  Girdwood,  with  much  concern. 

"And  I  feel  as  bad  as  I  look." 

"A  life  on  the  ocean  wave  doesn't  seem  to  agree  with 
you,"  Jack  remarked. 

"  I  don't  think  it  does.  My  instincts  deceived  me. 
They  led  me  to  come  on  board  ;  and  now  I  feel — oh " 

"You  'never  were  meant  for  the  sea,'  you  feel  so,  so, 
ail  round  your "  said  Harry. 

"Yes,  that's  just  how  I  do  feel,"  admitted  the  orphan 
Figgins,  "and  somehow  I  fancy  I  shall  never  see  dry 
land  again." 

At  this  ominous  opinion  his  listeners  glanced  at  each 
other  significantly. 

It  recalled  old  doubts  and  suspicions,  but  after  a  mo- 
ment Jack  exclaimed — 

"Oh,  hang  it,  Mr.  Figgins,  that's  too  melancholy; 
you're  in  the  dumps." 

"  Your  liver  must  be  out  of  order,"  suggested  Harry. 

"It  oughtn't  to  be.  I've  taken  any  quantity  of  blue 
pills  since  we've  started." 

"You  look  quite  blue." 

"And  I've  got  the  blues  too,  dreadfully,"  moaned  the 
afflicted  tea  dealer  ;  "oh,  dear,  I  feel  I'm  going." 

"Well,  you  wouldn't  have  us  stand  still,  would  you?  " 
said  Jack  ;  "  we're  all  going,  ain't  we  ?  " 

"Yes,  but  the  'go'  you  mean  and  the  'go'  I  mean  are 
two  different  things,"  whined  Mr.  Figgins. 

"Where  do  you  fancy  you're  going,  then?"  asked 
Harry. 

"To  pay  a  visit  to — to — I  forget  what  the  nautical  peo- 
ple call  the  person  at  this  moment — but  I  know  his  Chris- 
tian name's  David." 

"  And  his  surname's  Jones,  isn't  it  ?  " 

"Yes;  that's  it." 

"Yes,  Davy  Jones;  that's  him.  I  feel  I  am  on  my 
way  to  Davy  Jones'  as  fast  as  I  ean  gallop." 

"  Dear,  dear,  that's  very  sad." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  51 

"  It  is  ;  I  am  only  an  orphan,  but  don't  cry  for  me,  my 
dear  boys. " 

"We  won't  if  we  can  help  it,"  said  Jack,  getting  up  a 
fictitious  sob  for  the  occasion. 

"That's  right ;  why  should  you  ?  Though  not  young, 
I'm  a  desolate  orphan  that  nobody  cares  for." 

"Poor  creature,"  murmured  Jack  and  Harry,  as  they 
nudged  one  another,  and  sniffed  violently  in  order  to  check 
a  rising  tendency  to  laugh. 

Mr.  Figgins  was  so  touched  with  these  evident  expres- 
sions of  feeling,  that  he  burst  into  tears  on  the  spot. 

"I  do  feel  very  ill,  and  I'm  alone  in  the  world,"  he 
wailed. 

"  You're  not  the  only  one  in  that  unhappy  state,"  said 
Jack  consolingly. 

"I  know  that,"  wept  the  orphan  ;  "but  what  am  I  to 
do  with  all  my  money  when  I  die  ?  " 

"  Leave  it  behind  you  for  the  benefit  of  the  living," 
counselled  Jack. 

"They'll  be  very  much  obliged  to  you  for  it." 

"Ah,  yes  I  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Figgins,  "  no  doubt ;  and 
this  brings  me  round  again  to  what  I  want  to  do." 

"What  is  that,  sir?" 

"  Why,  as  I've  not  a  soul  in  the  world  to  bequeath  my 
property  to,  I'm  naturally  anxious  to  make  my  will. 
Oh,  dear  me,  this  rolling  ship  is  very  unpleasant.  I  am 
afraid  I  am  going  to  be  extremely  ill." 

"Leave  your  fortune  in  favour  of  Mr.  Nobody,  eh?" 
said  Jack. 

"Oh,  no;  I  mean  to  leave  my  hard-earned  gains  to 
society  in  general.  I  think  I  shall  bestow  it  on  a— oh, 
Lor'  ha'  mercy,  I  knew  it  was  coming." 

This  abrupt  deviation  from  the  subject  was  caused  by  a 
sudden  twinge  which  compelled  Mr.  Figgins  to  grasp  his 
stomach  convulsively. 

"Take  me  below  ;  I'm  dying,"  he  gasped,  in  a  hollow 
voice,  as  he  doubled  up  and  sat  down  on  the  deck,  and 
his  wig  at  the  same  time. 

"'Take  him  up  tenderly,  lift  him  with  care,'"  said 
young  Jack,  quoting  the  "  Bridge  of  Sighs." 

"  He's  only  an  orphan  without  any  heir,"  supplemen- 
ted Harry  Girdwood,  as  they  picked  him  up,  and  his  wig 
at  the  same  time. 


52  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"Carry  me  to  my  cabin,  dear  boys,"  he  murmured; 
"and  you  must  help  me  make  my  will.  But  first  give 
me  something  to  comfort  me.  A  little  warm  brandy 
and — oh ! — water  ;  and  another — ugh  ! — blue  p-pill — oh, 
oh  !  I  wish  I  had  never  come  to  sea  ;  it  looks  very  nice 
on  land,  but  when  you  are  on  it,  oh " 

In  the  midst  of  these  ejaculations  our  heroes  carried 
him  down  stairs. 

Hardly  had  they  disappeared  from  view  when  a  merry 
black  face  became  visible  emerging  from  the  hatchway. 

It  was  Jack's  boy,  Tinker. 

Having  stepped  on  to  the  deck,  he  stood  sniffing  the 
briny  with  evident  satisfaction. 

"Golly,  dat  beau'ful  !  De  smell  ob  de  sea  very  oderi- 
f  rous  !  conglomerated  essence  ob  chloride  ob  lime  notink 
to  it  !  do  dis  chile  much  big  lot  o'  good  arter  bein'  shut 
up  down  below  in  de  fowls'  air." 

Having  thus  expressed  himself  he  walked  to  the  ship's 
side  and  looked  down  upon  the  water  for  a  few  seconds. 

"  Massa  Jack  smoke,  me  tink  Tinker  hab  a  smoke,"  he 
said  to  himself. 

He  took  a  few  steps,  but  stopped  suddenly. 

"  Gem'lam  like  me  got  no  right  to  wait  upon  'isself,"  he 
reflected ;  "  sartainly  not;  what  de  good  o'  keepin'  a  help  ?  " 

With  this  impression  he  went  to  the  hatchway  and 
called  down — 

"Bogey,  you  nigger  I " 

There  was  no  answer. 

"Whardat  lazy  nigger  got  to? "he  muttered  to  him- 
self. 

Then  after  a  moment,  finding  that  his  help  did  not  re- 
spond in  any  way,  he  bawled  again — 

' '  Bogey,  yer  lazy,  ugly  cuss,  why  you  not  come  when 
you  massa  call — eh  ?  " 

"  I'se  on  de  way,"  replied  Bogey's  cheerful  voice  from 
the  distance. 

And  presently  Bogey  himself  came  shuffling  up  the  steps 
on  to  the  deck. 

"Why  you  not  come  quick — quick  as  de  lectric  tele- 
scope, eh,  you  dirty-looking  nigger?"  demanded  Tinker, 
in  a  tone  of  authority. 

"'Cos  him  not  a  telescope,  I  s'pose,"  returned  Bogey 
with  a  grin. 


If  IS  BOY  TINKER. 


S3 


"Den  you  won't  do  for  me,  dat  sartain.  I  shall 
change. " 

"  Bery  good !  me  do  for  someun  else,  I  dessay,"  Bogey 

replied. 

' '  What  dat  you  say,  sar  ?  " 

"  Me  not  gwine  to  say  it  ober  agin  to  please  nobody," 
said  Bogey  obstinately. 

Tinker  drew  himself  up  and  looked  at  his  rebellious  help 
in  an  indignant  manner. 

"  You  dare  talk  to  me  like  dat? "  he  exclaimed  after  a 
moment. 

"Course  I  dare!" 

"  What  dat  you  say  to  a  gentleman,  who  am  your 
massa?" 

"  Dere  no  massas  in  dis  'ere  free  country;  all  ekal — 
alike — yah  yah  !  "  chuckled  Bogey,  with  much  bounce. 

"  Tell  you  what  it  am,"  cried  Tinker,  in  a  tone  of  pro- 
found disgust ;  ' '  you  dam  'umbug,  dat  what  you  are  I  " 

"  You  'noder." 

"Me?" 

"  Yes." 

"Take  dat." 

"Take  dat  yourself?" 

The  two  niggers — master  and  help — having  first  kicked 
each  other's  shins,  next  seized  one  another  by  their  woolly 
locks. 

And  then  for  some  moments  they  tugged  away  to  their 
hearts'  content. 

At  length  they  fell  back  on  the  deck  with  a  tuft  of  wool 
in  each  hand. 

And  their  irritability  being  somewhat  appeased,  Tinker 
said  in  a  dignified  tone — 

"  Dere,  'nuf  of  dis!  an'  as  your  conduc'  bery  beastly 
and  abdominal,  I  only  got  one  ting  to  gib  yar." 

"What  dat?" 

"  De  big  bag — de  sack." 

"  De  sack  ?  What  dat?"  asked  Bogey,  with  a  kind  of 
sulky  curiosity. 

"  Ya're  discharged  dat's  what  it  am  ! "  said  Tinker,  in  a 
tone  so  hard  and  stern,  that  it  almost  took  the  frizz  out  of 
his  woolly  locks.  "Go  back  to  de  ignorant  black an'mals 
I  took  yer  from.  Yar  not  fit  to  live  in  suspect'ble  society. 
Fake  yar  'ook !  go  1 " 


5  4  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AMD 

The  tremendous  energy  with  which  these  words  were 
uttered,  recalled  Bogey  at  once  to  a  full  sense  of  his  dis- 
obedience. 

"  Don'  send  me  'way  dis  time,  Massa  Tinker,"  he  said, 
entreatingly,  falling  on  his  knees  ;  "  me  neber  pull  your 
wool  agin.  Let  me  'top." 

"No,"  replied  Tinker,   firmly;   "it  quite  imposs'ble ' 
De  young  gentleman,  Tinker,  say  yar  got  to  go. " 
'  I'm  bery  sorry. " 

'  Am  yar  bery,  big,  much,  dam,  tremendous  sorry  ?  " 
'  Orful ! " 

'  Yar  neber  do  it  again  to  dis  noble  Tinker?  " 
'  Neber  !  neber  !  "  whimpered  Bogey  ;  "  not  till  de  nex* 
time." 

«  You  quite  sure  on  dat  p'int !     Neber  till  next  time  I " 
<  Sartain  !  " 

'  Den  I  forgib  yar,"  said  Tinker,  magnanimously  ;  "in 
token  ob  which,  you  may  kiss  my  big  toe." 

He  extended  his  foot  as  he  spoke,  and  Bogey  kissed 
that  important  member. 

In  the  sincerity  of  his  repentance  he  did  a  little  more. 

He  bit  it. 

So  sharply,  that  his  forgiving  master  shot  out  his  leg  and 
knocked  him  flat  on  his  back. 

After  a  moment  he  said — 

"  You  cuss  nigger,  I  told  you  to  kiss  my  toe,  not  bite 
it  Now  get  up  an'  go  an'  fetch  me  a  smoke." 

"Whar  me  get  a  smoke?"  asked  Bogey,  rubbing  his 
nose. 

"What  dat  to  do  with  me  ? "  said  Tinker,  sharply.  "I 
tell  you  get  me  a  smoke.  Whar  you  get  it  your  bis'ness." 

Bogey  disappeared. 

During  his  absence  Master  Tinker  walked  up  and  down 
the  deck  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  whistling. 

In  a  few  moments  Bogey  returned. 

"'Ere  'im  are,  massa,"  he  said,  as  he  handed  him  half 
a  cigar. 

Tinker  examined  it  a  moment  with  evident  dissatis- 
faction. 

' '  What  de  meanin'  ob  dis  ?  "  he  asked  at  length,  in  dis- 
gust. "  Whar  you  get  dis  from  ?  " 

"Out  ob  one  ob  de  cabs." 

"Cabins,  sar.     Why  you  not  speak  gumratical ?     I  tell 


If  IS  BOY  TINKER. 


55 


you  bring    me  a    smoke.      Why  you  bring    me    half 
smoke." 

"  'Cos  I  couldn't  get  no  more,"  was  Bogey's  answer. 

Tinker  gave  a  grunt  and  proceeded  at  once  to  light  his 
half  smoke  with  a  fusee. 

In  vain  he  puffed  and  pulled ;  he  could  get  no  smoke 
out  of  it ;  it  was  cracked  and  wouldn't  draw. 

Happening  to  turn  round,  he  espied  his  help  very  com- 
placently blowing  a  voluminous  cloud  from  a  piece  of 
cigar  that  looked  very  like  the  other  half  of  the  weed  he 
was  smoking  himself. 

His  suspicions  were  at  once  excited,  and  rushing  to 
him,  he  collared  him  on  the  spot. 

"You  dam  nigger  tief !  You  ugly,  big-mouf  chimney- 
pot !  "  he  shouted,  as  he  shook  him  almost  out  of  his  boots. 
"What  you  mean  to  rob  you  massa  in  dis  hyar  way — 
eh?" 

Bogey,  caught  in  the  fact,  had  no  excuse  to  offer,  and 
at  once  glided  back  into  penitent  confession. 

"  Beg  pard'n,  massa,  'im  no  rob  notink,  s'elp  'im  golly, 
'im  habn't !  "  he  said. 

"  You  tell  lie,  'bominal  wicked  lie  1 "  cried  Tinker,  in- 
dignantly. "You  know  bery  well  you  cut  de  smoke  in 
two  bits." 

"Dat's  as  true,  massa,  as  one  and  two  makes  six," 
admitted  Bogey.  "  But  den  de  oder  'alf  war  cracked." 

' '  Yes,  and  dis  chile  got  it.  You  keep  de  good  'alf 
yourself,  you  greedy-gut  pig  !  "  shouted  his  master,  as  he 
crammed  the  damaged  piece  half  way  down  Bogey's 
throat  and  almost  choked  him.  "  Dere,  see  'ow  you 
like  it" 

Bogey  didn't  like  it  at  all,  and  spluttered  and  coughed 
a  good  deal. 

But  at  length,  he  compromised  matters  by  going  and 
fetching  an  enormous  regalia,  which  he  presented  to  the 
incensed  Tinker. 

This  timely  atonement  pacified  his  master  immediately. 

And  the  two  niggers  the  next  moment,  forgetting  all 
their  past  squabbles,  were  smoking  together  in  the  utmost 
harmony. 


Chivey  !  "  exclaimed  Herbert  Murray. 


j6  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Sir,  to  you!" 

"  I  feel  inclined  for  a  weed." 

"All  right,  guv'nor ;  I  feel  as  though  I  could  do  a 
smoke  myself. " 

"So  you  shall.     Hand  over  the  box. " 

"Where  is  it?" 

"  On  the  shelf  yonder ;  there  are  two  of  those  rattling 
regalias  still  left." 

"Not  one,"  said  Chivey,  as  he  held  out  the  empty  box. 

"Some  confounded  prig  has  been  helping  himself," 
continued  the  young  gentleman,  irritably;  "I  wish  I 
knew  who  it  was  ;  I'd  teach  him  to  respect  the  rights  of 
property. " 

"Ditto!  ditto!"  cried  Chivey,  doubling  his  right  fist 
and  giving  an  imaginary  double  knock  in  the  air  with  it. 
"  I'd  let  him  have  a  good  lump  of  returns  in  exchange, 
for  his  own  private  smoking." 

"You  had  better  go  to  the  steward  and  get  another 
box,"  said  his  master. 

"  Tell  him  to  put  it  down  in  the  bill  as  per  usual,  I  sup- 
pose?" said  Chivey,  with  an  inquiring  grin. 

"Certainly  ;  dad  pays  all  my  exes." 

The  valet  disappeared,  and  in  a  very  brief  space  came 
back  with  a  fresh  supply. 

And  the  pair,  having  lit  up,  went  on  deck. 

Both  Jack  and  Harry  at  the  time  were  writing  in  their 
cabin,  therefore,  not  seen  by  Murray  or  his  servants. 

Almost  the  first  things  Herbert  noticed  were  Tinker  and 
his  valet,  who  were  both  puffing  away  in  a  state  of  entire 
satisfaction. 

The  young  gentleman  eyed  them  for  some  little  time, 
in  silence,  and  then  said — 

' '  Who  are  those  two  ugly  black  brutes  ?  " 

"They  belong  to  the  Harkaway  gang,"  was  Chivey 's 
reply. 

"  The  devil  they  do  !" 

"Yes;  that's  a  fact." 

"I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  understand  why  such  abomi- 
nations as  niggers  are  permitted  to  exist,"  remarked 
Herbert  in  a  tone  of  utter  disgust. 

"It's  a  great  mistake,  that's  certain,"  admitted  Chivey. 

"Oh,  it's  a  frightful  error;  they  pollute  the  very  at- 
mosphere. Phew  !  I  can  smell  them  as  I  stand  here." 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER.  57 

"There's  no  doubt  they're  orful  strong-flavoured" 
'And  they're  smoking,  too." 
'  Cigars  ! " 

'My  regalias,  perhaps,"  said  Herbert  suspiciously. 
'Very  like." 

'  If  so,  I'll  break  their  ugly  necks. " 
'Quite  right  and  proper,  sir,  and  I'll  help  you." 
'  Let's  come  a  little  nearer  to  them." 
Murray  and  his  valet  approached  the  niggers. 
"How  dreadfully  they  stink!"  exclaimed  the  young 
gentleman,  as  he  drew  near. 

"Oh,  taller  and  trotters  !  "  cried  Chivey. 
The  darkeys,  having  particularly  quick  ears,  heard  these 
remarks  distinctly. 

It  was  fully  intended  that  they  should  hear  them. 
"Rader    fancy    dem    gem'lams    war    deludin'  to   us, 
Bogey  ?  "  whispered  Tinker,  to  his  comrade. 

"  Me  incline  to  your  'pinions,"  Bogey  answered. 
"  What  war  it  he  say  ? " 
"  He  say  you  'tink  drefful." 

"Bery  much  great  insult,  and  dam  big  lie  as  well,"  re- 
sponded Tinker,  indignantly. 

' '  Ob  course  it  am.     Every  body  know  we  two  ob  de 
sweetest  objec's  in  creashun." 

"  Dat's  a  fac',"  exclaimed  Tinker,  confidently;  "gas 
pipes  fools  to  us." 

"  Hallo  1  you  two  blackbeetles,"  shouted  Herbert 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  BLACK  BOY'S  REPLY — HERBERT  MURRAY  AND  HIS  VALET  MAKE 
AN  ATTACK  UPON  TINKER  AND  HIS  HELP,  AND  GET  THE  WORST 
OF  IT — CHIVEY  RECEIVES  A  COMMISSION  FROM  HIS  MASTER  AND 
PREPARES  TO  EXECUTE  IT — A  CHASE  ALOFT — TINKER  GETS  A 
DROP  TOO  MUCH. 

THE  beetles  looked  round. 
"  Who  gave  you  permission  to  smoke  ?  " 
"Neber  axed  no  permission,"  Tinker  replied. 
"  Who  gib  you  ?  "  inquired  Bogey,  in  his  turn. 
"We   don't    require   permission,"    returned    Herbert, 
grandly  ;  "  our  colour  is  privileged." 


58  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Colour  notink.  We  got  jes' the  same  pilliwedges  as 
you  two  got,"  said  Tinker,  drawing  himself  up  with  im- 
mense grandeur. 

"And  pray  what  are  you  smoking  ? " 

"De  very  bes'  'Avannahs,  ob  course." 

"Ob  course!  Black  gem'lams  allays  has  de  bes'." 
joined  in  Bogey,  as  he  sent  a  stream  of  aromatic  smoke 
puffing  into  the  face  of  the  questioner,  and  half  suffocated 
him. 

"Ugh,  ugh,  ugh  ! ''  coughed  Herbert ;  "ugh,  ugh  !  you 
brutes. " 

"Uncultivated  swine,"  exclaimed  Chivey,  sneezing 
violently. 

"The  fact  is,"  continued  Murray,  "you  have  been 
purloining  my  regalias,  you  black  brutes." 

As  he  said  this,  he  stepped  forward,  and  snatched 
the  stump  of  the  cigar  Tinker  was  smoking  from  his 
mouth. 

"  Of  course,  as  I  suspected,"  he  cried,  as  he  glanced  at 
it.  "  What  have  you  to  say  for  yourself,  eh,  you  black 
prig  ? " 

"Jes'  dis  hyar.  If  you  take  'way  dis  chile's  cigar,  he 
take  'way  yourn,  yah,  yah  !  " 

And  with  these  words  Tinker  made  a  grab  at  Murray's 
weed,  and  got  it. 

At  the  same  moment  Bogey  followed  suit  upon  Chivey 
in  the  same  manner. 

Both  master  and  valet  found  themselves  suddenly  de- 
prived of  their  choice  smokes. 

"Give  it  up,  you  villain  !  "  exclaimed  Herbert. 

"  Drop  it,  you  sweep  !  "  bawled  Chivey. 

They  made  a  rush  at  the  darkeys  as  they  spoke. 

But  Tinker  and  Bogey,  being  as  quick  as  a  pair  of 
electric  eels,  dodged  aside,  and  the  irritated  pair  only 
dashed  themselves  against  the  bulwarks  of  the  ship, 
scraping  their  knuckles,  and  almost  flattening  their  noses 
in  their  impetuosity. 

When  they  recovered  themselves,  they  found  the  young 
niggers  a  few  yards  from  them,  puffing  away  at  their 
cigars  with  a  broad  grin  on  their  sable  countenances. 

"Dese  hyar  cigars  bery  much  consid'rable  good.  We 
smoke  dem  for  you  'cause  dey  might  make  you  ill," 
remarked  Tinker. 


2  HIS  BOY  TINKER.  59 

"  Iss,  dey  am  good, "  coolly  responded  Bogey,  as  he 
puffed  away. 

This  defiance  on  the  part  of  the  darkeys  was  unbearable 
to  Herbert  Murray,  and  scarcely  less  irritating  to  the 
feelings  of  Mr.  Chivey. 

"  You  pair  of  reptiles  !  "  cried  the  former. 

"  Scum  o'  the  earth  ! "  exclaimed  the  latter. 

"  There's  only  one  way  of  dealing  with  such,  and  that 
is  to  crush  them." 

"  Smash  'em  !  knock  'em  to  smithereens  !  "  joined  in 
Chivey  ;  "go  it,  guv'nor  !  " 

With  clenched  fists,  the  Englishman  advanced,  for  the 
purpose  of  inflicting  condign  punishment  on  the  obnox- 
ious blacks. 

Tinker  and  Bogey  could  see  their  opponents  were  in 
earnest,  and,  quickly  knocking  off  the  ash  of  their  cigars, 
slipped  them  into  their  pockets,  and  were  quite  ready  to 
meet  their  foe. 

The  latter  came  sparring  up  in  the  usual  orthodox 
English  fashion. 

The  young  blacks  did  not  spar. 

They  simply  waited  for  the  attack,  with  their  legs  a 
little  bowed,  and  their  heads  a  little  forward  as  if  inviting 
a  punch. 

The  invitation  was  instantly  accepted. 

Herbert  Murray  and  his  valet  made  a  simultaneous 
rush  in. 

The  pair  of  woolly  heads  instantly  bobbed  down. 

The  blows  passed  harmlessly  over  them,  whilst  at  the 
same  instant  they  shot  forward,  head  first,  full  butt,  and 
delivering  their  antagonists  a  broadside  below  the  belt 
that  sent  them  flying  as  though  stricken  by  a  couple  ot 
battering-rams. 

The  shock  of  the  fall  was  so  severe  that  they  lay  for  a 
moment  in  the  scuppers,  motionless,  with  their  breath 
apparently  shaken  out  of  their  bodies. 

"Golly  ! "  exclaimed  Tinker,  after  a  moment,  as  he  ad- 
vanced and  looked  down  at  them,  "me  tink  we  knock 
'em  into  what  dey  call  de  'mortal  smash.'" 

"  Seem  like  it ;  dey  not  like  what  we  gib  'em,"  cried 
Bogey. 

' '  Dat  sartain.  Dey  look  for  all  de  world  as  if  dey  was 
dead." 


60  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

Bogey's  face  grew  a  trifle  longer  at  this  suggestion. 

"What  dey  do  to  people  what  kill  oder  people  ?  " 

"  'Ang  'em  up  by  de  'eels  till  dere  neck's  stretched  long 
as  turkey  cocks,"  Tinker  explained. 

Bogey  was  so  horrified  at  this  idea,,  that  he  made  a 
precipitate  retreat  down  the  hatchway  and  vanished. 

"Me  go  hide  away,"  he  cried. 

Tinker,  whose  nerves  were  somewhat  stronger,  quietly 
re-lighted  his  cigar  and  walked  forward,  saying — 

"  Dis  shild  not  afraid." 

After  a  short  time,  Herbert  Murray  and  Chivey  came 
to  themselves. 

Herbert  had  had  enough  of  Australian  savages  for  the 
present,  and  he  said  to  his  valet — 

"  I  shall  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  those  black 
brutes.  Having  no  brains,  and  skulls  as  thick  as  paving- 
stones,  it's  losing  labour  to  hammer  at  them.  I  leave 
them  to  you,  Chivey ;  you  know  what  to  do." 

•  Chivey  screwed  up  his  features  with  as  grateful  an  ex- 
pression as  possible,  and  pledged  himself  solemnly  to 
"smash  the  pair  of  them,"  if  he  could. 

Herbert  Murray  then  went  below,  and  Chivey  having 
armed  himself  with  a  marline-spike,  went  forward  in 
search  of  the  "black  brutes." 

He  soon  espied  Tinker,  who  was  leaning  over  the  ship's 
side,  placidly  smoking  Chivey's  cigar. 

Grasping  the  implement  he  held  tightly,  he  approached 
as  noiselessly  as  possible,  and  having  got  near  enough, 
suddenly  sprang  forward,  and  aimed  a  tremendous  blow 
at  Tinker's  woolly  head. 

Had  the  stroke  taken  effect,  it  would  inevitably  have 
fractured  Tinker's  skull. 

But  fortunately  the  black  boy  caught  a  glimpse  of  his 
assailant  just  in  time  to  enable  him  to  drop  down,  and 
the  blow  fell  harmlessly. 

Before  it  could  be  repeated,  Tinker  had  removed  him- 
self several  yards  out  of  harm's  way,  and  stood  with  his 
cigar  in  his  mouth,  with  his  large  dark  eyes  riveted  upon 
his  foe,  as  if  reckoning  him  up,  calculating  the  chances 
in  his  favour  in  case  the  white  youth  renewed  his  attack. 

That  this  would  be  the  case  seemed  pretty  evident  from 
the  spiteful  gleam  in  Mr.  Chivey's  eyes.  But  to  put  the 
latter  beyond  all  doubt,  he  exclaimed  ferociously — 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  6." 

"  It's  the  guv'nor's  orders  you're  to  be  smashed,  yer 
darned  dirty  black  puddin',  an'  by  the  livin'  jingo,  I'm 
g-oin'  to  smash  yer." 

"Am  yer?"  replied  Tinker,  with  an  inward  chuckle. 
"  Dis  chile  bery  much 'blige  for  de  informashun,  but — 
yah,  yah ! — golly  !  you  big  bully,  you  got  to  ketch  'im 
fust." 

"I  shan't  be  long  about  that,"  cried  the  valet,  as  he 
sprang  forward. 

But  by  the  time  he  reached  the  spot  where  Tinker  had 
been  standing  a  moment  before  he  found  it  vacated. 

The  young  nigger  had  cleverly  changed  places  with 
him,  and  was  now  as  far  behind  as  he  had  previously 
been  in  front  of  him. 

Clenching  his  teeth  and  knitting  his  brows  with  irrita- 
tion at  having  missed  his  mark,  the  valet  made  a  second 
rush  after  Tinker. 

Tinker  simply  stepped  aside,  and  disappeared  behind 
the  foremast. 

"Ha,  ha!  got  yer  now,  blackin'  bottle,"  chuckled 
Chivey,  as  he  bounded  towards  the  mast  ;  and  having 
reached  it,  he  made  a  slashing  blow  with  his  marline- 
spike,  but  hit  nothing,  for  the  simple  reason  that  there 
was  nothing  to  hit. 

To  his  great  surprise  Tinker  had  vanished. 

"Where  the  devil  has  the  ugly  beggar  got  to?  "he 
muttered,  in  a  savagely  perplexed  tone. 

A  peculiar  sound  over  his  head  at  that  moment  caused 
him  to  look  up. 

Tinker's  ebony  face  looked  down  upon  him. 

"  'Ere  'im  am,  massa,  yah,  yah,"  he  grinned,  as  he  sat 
composedly  astride  the  yardarm  ;  "  'ere  de  ugly  beggar  ; 
cotch  'im  if  you  can,  you  ugly  white  nigger. " 

Chivey  uttered  an  oath,  and  clutched  the  implement  he 
held  tighter  still  in  his  fury. 

"You  shall  have  it  hot  when  I  ketch  yer,"  he  growled. 

"Yah,  yah!  when  yer  do — when,"  grinned  the  black; 
"dat  long  time  fust;  come  along,  ugly  white  serv- 
ant." 

It  was  most  galling  to  Mr.  Chivey's  already  incensed 
feelings  to  be  chaffed  in  this  way  by  a  contemptible 
nigger  boy,  and  thrusting  the  marlin-spike  into  his  belt, 
he  prepared  to  mount  the  ratlines  in  pursuit. 


62  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

Chivey  flattered  himself  that  he  could  climb  "a trifle." 
And  so  he  could. 

In  his  earlier  years  he  had  had  considerable  practice 
upon  scaffold  poles,  and  since  he  had  been  afloat  he  had 
been  aloft  and  regarded  his  skill  as  little  inferior  to  that 
of  any  sailor  on  board  the  ' '  Albatross. " 

But  there  was  no  doubt  that  Mr.  Chivey  would  have 
all  his  work  to  do  to  catch  Tinker. 

At  all  events,  he  had  a  certain  amount  of  dogged  deter- 
mination in  his  temper  that  led  him  to  try. 

Up  the  shrouds  he  went,  and  was  soon  pursuing  his  way 
through  the  rigging  up  aloft  out  of  sight  of  those  on  deck. 

The  breeze  had  freshened,  and  the  cranky,  leaky  old 
vessel  rolled  heavily  in  the  waters,  causing  the  valet  to 
hold  on  like  grim  death  as  the  ship,  in  her  deviations 
from  the  perpendicular,  gave  him  a  very  uncomfortable 
glimpse  of  the  foaming  waves  beneath. 

But  Chivey  prided  himself  on  his  British  pluck,  and  he 
still  kept  on. 

So  also  did  Tinker  ;  but  Tinker  was  much  more  at  home 
in  his  aerial  position  than  his  pursuer,  and  seemed,  if  any- 
thing, rather  to  enjoy  it.  He  took  delight  in  allowing  his 
enemy  to  get  very  near  him. 

Then  as  the  latter  extended  his  arms  to  seize  him,  he 
would  suddenly  remove  himself. 

But  only  just  sufficiently  to  be  provokingly  close,  and 
yet  beyond  reach. 

Here,  lying  at  full  length,  with  his  limbs  skilfully  en- 
twined in  the  ropes  that  supported  him,  he  would  grin 
derisively  in  his  opponent's  face.  Chivey  ground  his 
teeth  fiercely. 

"You  infernal  black  flibbertigibbet!"  he  growled, 
"it's  no  use  your  trying  to  escape  me  ;  I'm  bound  to  lay 
hold  of  you  in  the  long  run." 

"Yah,  yah  !  "  grinned  Tinker,  "  you  hab  dam  long  run 
'fore  dat,  massa. " 

And  as  he  spoke,  he  took  his  cigar  from  his  mouth,  and^ 
pressed  the  hot  end  upon  the  back  of  Mr.  Chivey's  out-* 
stretched  hand. 

"Dere,  how  you  like  dat,  eh?"  he  cried. 

It  was  awfully  startling,  and  raised  an  immediate 
blister  ;  and  the  worse  of  it  was  Mr.  Chivey  dared  not 
let  go  lest  he  should  fall. 


If  IS  BOY  TINKER.  63 

A  volley  of  execrations  burst  from  his  lips. 

During  which  Tinker  unwound  his  limbs  from  the  gear 
that  enmeshed  their,  and  made  another  move. 

Chivey,  growling,  and  rendered  more  furious  by  the 
pain  of  his  burn,  followed. 

Tinker  kept  himself  particularly  cool,  and  having  found 
a  short  piece  of  knotted  rope,  he  amused  himself  by  turn- 
ing round  every  now  and  then  and  giving  his  pursuer  a 
sharp  tap  on  his  knuckles. 

Still  the  chase  continued. 

From  rope  to  rope — from  mast  to  mast,  Tinker  led  his 
pursuer  any  thing  but  a  merry  dance. 

In  time  he  found  himself  on  the  crosstrees  of  the  top 
mainmast. 

"Yah,  yah  !  Massa  Piggy  no  come  up  hyar  ;  the  white 
nigger  'fraid  to  follow  dis  chile  hyar  !  "  he  grinned  as  he 
sat  poised  on  his  rocking  perch. 

But  he  was  mistaken. 

For  the  next  moment  the  heavy  breathing  ot  the  valet 
was  heard,  and  his  face  appeared  almost  livid  with  his 
intense  exertions  and  his  longing  for  revenge. 

He  now  held  the  marline-spike  between  his'teeth.  His 
eyes  gleamed  as  fiercely  as  those  of  an  angry  wild  cat  as 
he  gradually  ascended 

Tinker  evinced  no  dismay  whatever. 

He  simply  shifted  himself  a  little  further  along  the  cross 
bar  on  which  he  was  seated. 

But  Chivey  was  not  to  be  debarred  from  following. 

With  an  energetic  tug  he  pulled  himself  up  and  was 
soon  seated  astride  the  crosstree. 

Quickly  removing  the  marline-spike  from  between  his 
teeth,  and  clinging  firmly  with  his  legs,  he  once  more 
aimed  a  tremendous  blow  at  Tinker's  head. 

Tinker  of  course  dodged  the  blow.  The  iron  weapon 
slipped  from  Chivey's  hand  and  fell  heavily  on  deck,  at 
the  feet  of  the  solitary  orphan,  who,  feeling  a  trifle  better, 
had  paused  in  the  middle  of  the  codicil,  and  crept  up  upon 
deck  for  a  moment  to  get  a  sniff  of  fresh  air. 

The  marlin-spike  almost  scraped  his  nose  in  its  de- 
scent. 

An  inch  or  two  nearer,  and  it  would  probably  have 
knocked  his  unprotected  brains  out. 

' '  Good    gracious    me  !    what's  that  ? "  he    exclaimed 


64  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

aghast,  as  he  glanced  at  it  apprehensively*  "  It  must  be 
a  thunderbolt,  I  think." 

And  without  making  any  further  investigations,  &e 
crept  down  again  as  quietly  as  he  had  crept  up. 

Whilst  this  was  transpiring  below,  Chivey  was  up  in 
the  maintop  glaring  at  his  intended  victim. 

He  had  again  missed  his  mark,  and  Tinker,  in  order  to 
put  as  great  a  distance  as  possible  between  his  vindictive 
assailant  and  himself,  had  edged  off  to  the  extreme  ena 
of  the  yard. 

An  awfully  perilous  position  it  seemed  as  he  sat  there. 

Not  that  he  felt  it  so. 

Although  the  vessel  was  rolling  from  side  to  side  in 
any  thing  but  an  agreeable  manner. 

"Yah,  yah,  Massa  Chivey  !"  he  cried,  defiantly, 
"  you  know  better  dan  follow  me 'long  hyar. " 

"I'll  have  your  life,  if  I  follow  you  into  the  next  world, 
yer  imp  of  Beelzebub  !  "  hissed  Chivey  between  his  teeth. 

As  he  spoke,  he  commenced  crawling  along  the  cross- 
tree  with  deadly  determination. 

Being  at  the  extremity  of  his  perch,  Tinker  could  go 
no  further. 

' '  Oh,  golly  ! "  he  muttered  to  himself  in  a  perplexe6 
tone,  "  what  'im  do  now  ?" 

He  looked  up. 

There  was  no  way  of  escape  in  that  direction,  for  he 
was  already  almost  at  the  highest  pinnacle  of  the  mast. 

Beneath  him  rolled  the  dark,  stern  waves. 

Almost  close  alongside  him  was  his  foe,  with  an  un- 
mistakably murderous  gleam  in  his  eyes. 

Suddenly  the  young  negro  uttered  a  self-congratulatory 
chuckle. 

He  had  espied  a  rope  hanging  from  the  end  of  the  yar4 
on  which  he  sat. 

All  his  coolness  returned  to  him  in  a  moment. 

"Come  'long,  Massa  Chi-ikey,"  he  cried,  ironically: 
"  mind  you  don't  fall.  Yah,  yah  !  dis  infant  hab  to  fish 
you  out  if  you  fall. " 

With  an  oath,  Chivey  extended  his  arm  to   seize  him. 

" Not  jes'  yet,"  exclaimed  Tinker  ;  "dis  chile  off  to  de 
nex'  world." 

And  before  the  valet's  grasp  could  close  upon  biro,  he 
disappeared  with  the  rapidity  of  a  flash  of  lightning.  He 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  65 

was  now  dangling  at  the  end  of  six  feet  of  rope,  like  a 
spider  hanging  by  its  web. 

Chivey  looked  down  at  him  with  a  look  of  baffled  spite. 

But  suddenly  a  new  idea  flashed  across  him. 

His  eyes  became  full  of  evil  light.  He  muttered, 
viciously — 

"Yes  ;  you  black  beast,  the  next  world  ;  an'  I'll  send 
you  there  in  double  quick  time,  too  !  " 

With  these  words,  he  cautiously  glided  his  hand  into 
his  breast-pocket  and  drew  out  a  clasp  knife,  which  he 
opened  with  his  teeth. 

Poor  Tinker,  at  the  end  of  his  tether,  had  watched  his 
actions. 

And  instinctively  divining  what  they  meant,  at  once 
came  to  the  conclusion  that  his  position  was  extremely 
critical. 

At  once  he  began  to  haul  himself  up. 

He  soon  reached  the  yard,  and  grasped  it 

"Tink  we  been  playing'  long  'nough  now,  Massa 
Spiv'ey,"  he  said,  endeavouring  to  turn  the  affair  into  a 
pleasant  joke. 

A  fierce  growl,  and  an  angry  chop  with  the  clasp  knife 
on  his  fingers,  was  the  only  answer  he  received. 

Down  he  glided  again,  maimed  and  bleeding. 

"  You  coward  !  you  big  sneaking  white  dam  coward !  " 
cried  the  boy  Tinker,  as  he  looked  up  at  the  livid  face  of 
his  adversary. 

"You  dirty  nigger !"  returned  Chivey,  with  a  semi- 
sarcastic  smile,  ' '  I'm  goin'  to  send  you  where  such  cattle 
always  go  ! " 

Just  at  that  moment  the  ship  gave  a  fearful  lurch. 

Chivey  severed  the  cord  with  a  slash  of  his  knife. 

Then  with  a  wild  cry  of  horror  the  hapless  Tinker  fell 
through  the  air  over  and  over  into  the  dark  deep  waters. 

Bogey  heard  the  cry  of  his  master. 

But  his  fate  had  been  so  quickly  accomplished  Bogey 
knew  not  what  had  befallen  him. 

As  the  "  Albatross"  rolled  on  her  way,  no  trace  of 
poor  Tinker  could  be  seen. 

He  was  gone,  indeed — it  seemed*— to  the  next  world. 

5 


66  YO  UNO  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

BOGEY  RECEIVES  A  SPECTRAL  VISITATION  FROM  AN  OLD  FRIEND, 
WHO  EXPLAINS  VARIOUS  MATTERS,  AND  ARRANGES  A  LITTLE 
PLOT  FOR  MR.  CHIVEY's  EXPRESS  BENEFIT. 

CHIVEY,  having-  accomplished  his  dastardly  act,  de- 
scended from  the  rigging,  cautiously.  No  one  had  seen 
him  go  up.  No  one  saw  him  come  down. 

Consequently  no  one  suspected  the  deed  he  had  com- 
mitted up  aloft. 

Having  reached  the  deck,  the  half  groom,  half  valet, 
hurried  below  at  once,  and  joined  his  master  in  his  cabin. 

With  much  exultation  he  informed  the  latter  of  what  he 
had  done. 

Herbert  Murray  received  the  tidings  with  equal 
saisfaction. 

Not  only  was  his  revengeful  spirit  gratified  at  Tinker's 
destruction,  but  he  rejoiced  at  the  thought  of  the  power  it 
would  give  him  over  his  servant. 

Chivey  would  now  be  a  mere  tool  in  his  hands. 

"  Devilish  well  managed  ! "  he  cried,  approvingly  :  "pity 
you  couldn't  have  served  the  other  black  brute  in  the  same 
manner." 

"  I'll  do  that  yet,"  promised  Chivey  :  "  I'll  pickle  him 
in  brine  at  the  first  opportunity." 

"Do  so,"  replied  his  master  ;  "  what  are' the  lives  of  a 
pair  of  dirty  niggers?  Something  less  than  nothing  at  all. 
Bring  out  the  brandy,  Chivey,  and  let's  have  a  smoke." 

The  liquor  and  cigars  were  produced. 

Not  the  slightest  compunction  or  remorse  oppressed 
them. 

The  fact  that  they  were  at  that  moment  chargeable 
with  the  crime  of  murder  did  not  intrude  itself  upon  their 
minds. 

It  was  only  a  dirty  nigger  that  had  been  suddenly 
dispatched  into  eternity — what  was  that?  Less  than 
nothing !  And  so  they  smoked  and  drank  to  their  hearts' 
content. 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER.  67 

But  there  was  one  on  board  whose  mind  was  ill  at  ease. 

This  one  was  Bogey. 

Young  Jack  was  also  dreadfully  concerned  about  his 
boy  Tinker,  and  caused  every  search  to  be  made  for  him. 

The  general  opinion  was  that  the  young  negro  had 
paid — not  for  peeping — but  climbing ;  and  that,  in  his 
gambols  amongst  the  rigging — of  which  he  was  very 
fond — he  had  slipped  his  hold  and  fallen  into  the  sea. 

Bogey  listened  to  these  opinions. 

But  he  only  shook  his  head  ominously,  and  kept  his 
thoughts — whatever  they  were — to  himself. 


It  was  night. 

Bogey  feeling  in  particularly  depressed  spirits,  young 
Jack  had  given  him  permission  to  retire  to  his  bunk  early  ; 
but  he  could  not  sleep. 

The  ship  rolled  heavily  ;  and  he  lay  listening  to  her 
creaking  timbers,  that  sounded  like  the  wailings  of 
someone  in  pain. 

Thinking,  as  he  lay,  of  his  lost  comrade,  wondering 
what  had  become  of  him. 

As  he  lay  there,  he  was  suddenly  startled  by  a  strange 
sound,  like  someone  breathing  almost  close  to  him. 

Sitting  up,  he  looked  out  of  his  bunk,  half  expecting  to 
see  one  of  his  white  foes — Chivey  for  instance — with  a 
knife  in  his  hand,  standing  at  his  side  ;  but  he  saw  noth- 
ing. And  still  the  deep  respirations  were  distinctly 
audible. 

"  What  de  dooce  am  dat  ?  "  he  muttered. 

Bogey  began  to  experience  some  very  unpleasant 
sensations. 

* '  It  notink  !  it  can't  be  notink  !  it  on'y  some  'un  in  de 
nex'  cabin,"  he  argued  with  himself;  and  with  this 
reflection  he  lay  down  again  ;  but  presently  he  heard  a 
voice  exclaim  in  indistinct  and  smothered  tones — 

' '  Bogey,  Bogey  !  " 

"What  de  matter?  Bogey  am  all  right,"  he  cried, 
starting  up  once  more  in  his  bed,  with  a  chill  creeping  of 
gooseflesh  all  over  him. 

There  was  no  answer  for  a  moment ;  and  then  the 
voice  continued  inquiringly — 


68  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

«'  You  dere,  Bogey  ?  " 

"Iss — me — hyar  !  "  returned  the  young  negro,  his  teeth 
chattering  audibly. 

"  Am  you  all  'lone  by  you  'self?  " 

«  I — i — i — iss,  me — all —  'lone  by  my — self.  I  wish  I 
wasn't,"  gasped  Bogey,  the  big  drops  trickling  down  his 
face. 

'Dat  right !  den  dis  chile  can  come  out." 
'  Who — am — yah  ? "  shivered  Bogey. 
'  Don't  yah  know  the  soun'  ob  my  woice?  " 
'  No — n — o  !  s'elp  'im  golly  'im  don't !  " 
'It  Tinker  dat  undressing  hisself  to  yah  at  dis  minniL" 
This  was  too  much  for  Bogey. 
And  he  shouted — 

'It  dam  lie,  it  notink  ob  de  kind.     Tinker  dead." 
'  I  tell  you  I  am  here. " 
'  If  you  Tinker,  whar  am  you  den  ?  " 
'  In  de  cupboard, "  the  voice  replied — 
'This    fact    of   course    accounted    for    the    muffled 
indistinctness  of  the  tones  of  the  speaker. 
But  Bogey  was  still  incredulous. 
And  he  replied — 

"  Dat  'nother  lie  !  Tinker  at  de  bottom  ob  de  sea,  and 
de  fishes  habin'  dere  supper  off  him." 

Something  very  much  like  a  subdued  laugh  was  heard 
at  this. 

And  presently  the  voice  said — 
"  Tinker  come  back  to  see  Bogey." 
Bogey's  superstitious   terrors  were  becoming  stronger 
every  moment. 

But  he  replied  desperately — 

"  If  you  am  Tinker,  why  de  debble  you  stop  in  de  cup- 
board, eh  ?     Why  you  not  come  out  and  show  yourself?  " 
There  was  a  slight  scraping  heard  within  the  recess. 
The  door  slowly  opened  a  little,  and  a  black  woolly 
head  was  thrust  out. 

In  the  dim  light  of  the  ship's  lantern,  Bogey  at  once 
recognised  his  comrade's  well-known  features. 

"Iss,  ise,  you  am  Tinker,"  he  exclaimed;  "dere  not 
de  least  doubt  on  dat  point." 

The  door  swung  open  wider  at  this  juncture,  and 
Tinker  with  one  stride  stepped  forth,  and  stood  before 
his  comrade. 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER.  69 

There  was  something  in  his  manner  that  impressed 
Bogey  as  strange. 

Perhaps  Tinker,  in  his  love  of  mischief,  was  acting  a  part 

At  all  events,  his  help  was  still  a  prey  to  his  fears. 

' '  Am  you  de  real  Tinker,  or  am  you  a  member  ob  de 
land  ob  sperrits  ?  "  he  asked. 

' '  I'm  de  real  Tinker,  ole  hoss,  and  dere  no  sperrits  about 
me.  Wish  dere  war." 

Encouraged  by  this  assurance,  Bogey  sprang  from  his 
bed,  and  grasped  his  comrade  by  the  hand. 

To  his  great  joy  he  found  him  real  flesh  and  blood. 

' '  Oh,  golly,  golly  !  "  he  cried,  excitedly,  ' '  dis  bery 
won'ful,  bery  strawb'ry  won'ful.  Dey  say  you  slip  from 
de  rope,  and  fall  into  de  sea." 

"  So  I  did  fall  into  de  sea.  But  Massa  Chivey  cut  de 
rope  fust,  wid  him  knife,"  explained  Tinker. 

"  He  big  bla'guard.  But  how  you  get  back  agin  hyar, 
den  ? " 

"Him  swim  to  de  ship's  side,  lay  hole  ob  rope,  pull 
hisself  up,  get  trough  the  cabin  winder." 

1 '  An'  'ide  yourself  in  de  cupboard  ?  " 

"Iss." 

"Why  you 'ide,  eh?" 

"  Want  to  sarve  out  Massa  Chivey,  dat  why.  'Lectrify 
im  out  ob  his  'leben  senses." 

Bogey  looked  at  his  comrade  inquiringly. 

"  'Ow  you  do  dat  ?  " 

"  Tear  afore  'im  in  de'  middle  ob  de  night,  He  tink 
me  ghost  of  murdered  Tinker  I  Gib  'em  de  'errors  orful, " 
said  Tinker,  in  an  awfully  deep  and  impressive  tone. 

Bogey  grinned  from  ear  to  ear. 

"  Golly,  dat  good  !    Dat  fuss-rate  good,"  he  exclaimed. 

"Me  fader  tink  it  am,"  said  Tinker  complacently. 

"  But  'ow  you  gwine  to  manidge  'bout  de  ghost  ?  "  Bogey 
asked. 

Tinker  grinned  and  winked  and  his  head  nodded  like  a 
Chinese  image,  as  he  chuckled  in  reply — 

" Dis  chile  know  all  'bout  it." 

"But  dis  chile  don't  know  notink;  an'  'im  want  to 
know  bery  much." 

Suddenly  he  exclaimed — 

"  Me  got  it— de  hidear.' 

"What  am  it,  eh?" 


y0  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Why,  fust  you  get  under  Massa  Chivey's  bed." 

"  'Top  bit ;  got  to  git  into  Massa  Chivey's  cabin  fust, 
fore  'im  git  under  de  bed,"  grinned  Tinker;  "  'ow  me 
get  dare  ?  " 

"Through  de  door,  ob  course,"  said  Bogey,  looking 
rather  indignant  at  the  simplicity  of  the  question. 

"  S'pose  de  door  locked,"  said  his  comrade,  knowingly  ; 
"what  den?" 

Bogey  scratched  his  head  again  fretfully. 

"Dunno  any  oder  way  den,"  Bogey  replied. 

"  Den  I  show  you,"  said  Tinker ;   "look  hyar  !  " 

As  he  spoke,  he  went  into  the  cupboard. 

His  comrade  followed  eagerly. 

"You  see  de  boards  there  ?"  continued  Tinker,  as  he 
pointed  to  the  back. 
'  Iss,  me  see  'em. " 

'Bery  good  ;  den  behind  dare  Massa  Chivey's  cabin." 
'  Am  it,  though  ? " 
'  Iss — well,  dem  boards  moves. " 
'  Golly  !  does  'em  ?  " 

Tinker  pushed  aside  a  panel,  which  slid  along  in  a 
groove,  disclosing  a  tolerably  large  aperture  which  was, 
however,  entirely  filled  up  with  what  appeared  to  be  solid 
wood. 

Bogey  noticed  this  at  once,  and  exclaimed — 

' '  You  not  be  able  to  get  in  dere  !  " 

"Wait  bit ;  you  see. " 

As  Tinker  spoke,  he  applied  his  hand  to  the  wood,  and, 
giving  it  a  slight  tug,  it  came  away,  revealing  the  back 
view  of  the  interior  of  a  chest  of  drawers. 

"  Golly  1"  murmured  Bogey,  in  much  surprise  at  this 
wonderful  discovery;  "you  mean  git  inside  dem 
drawers  ? " 

"Ob  course  'im  do,"  Tinker  replied,  as  with  another 
slight  pull  he  removed  the  backing  of  the  bottom  drawer. 

The  drawer  was  entirely  empty. 

"Dere,"  said  Tinker,  triumphantly,  "  dat  whar  de 
ghost  gwine  to  be." 

And  in  order  to  prove  the  practicability  of  this  arrange- 
ment, he  crawled  in. 

"  But  Massa  Chivey  not  be  able  to  see  you  in  dere," 
remarked  his  comrade,  after  a  moment. 

"Know  dat  as  well  as  you  do,"  Tinker  replied  sharply ; 


HIS  BO  Y  TINKER.  7 1 

"but  he  able  to  'ear  me  when  I  gib  'im  drefful  warnin'  (he 
meant  warning)  out  ob  de  key'ole." 

"Ah,  yes  ;  'im  'ear  dat  !  "  admitted  Bogey,  "golly,  im 
be  in  great  fright." 

After  a  moment  he  said  inquiringly — 

"  'Ow  you  gwine  to  get  out  ?  " 

"Crawl  out  the  same  way  I  crawl  in,"  replied  Tinker, 
with  a  grin  as  he  emerged  backwards  from  his  narrow 
retreat,  and  replaced  the  back  of  the  drawers. 

Bogey  watched  this  operation. 

"'Ow  de  ghost  gwine  to  show  'isself?  "  he  asked. 

"Open  you  eyes,"  Tinker  replied,  with  a  chuckle  ;  and 
as  he  spoke,  he  pushed  the  panel  a  little  further  along  in 
its  groove,  until  it  was  clear  of  the  chest  of  drawers,  and 
displayed  an  aperture  through  which  the  interior  of  the 
adjoining  cabin  could  be  distinctly  seen,  and  through 
which  a  not  over  bulky  body  could  squeeze  itself  easily. 

"  Dere,"  exclaimed  Tinker,  as  he  pointed  to  it  triumph- 
antly ;  "dat  de  way  de  ghost  gwine  to  show  hisself, 
and  dat  the  way  de  ghost  gwine  to  vanquish  arter- 
wards. " 

"Golly,"  exclaimed  Bogey,  "Massa  Chivey  hab  de 
funks  orful  when  he  see  you,  Tinker ;  he  go  inter  con- 
fluxions  an'  kick  the  buckit." 

"  Sarve  'im  right,  too,"  Tinker  replied,  as  he  closed  the 
panel  again. 

"I  say,  ole  hoss,"  said  Bogey,  to  his  comrade,  after 
contemplating  him  thoughtfully  for  a  moment. 

"What  de  matter  now  ?  " 

"You  don't  look  bit  like  a  ghost." 

"Course  'im  don't  jest  at  present;  but  'im  will  'fore 
long.  Yar  go  an'  get  me  lump  ob  chalk." 

"Any  thing  else  ?  " 

"Shouldn't  mind  some  grubs  as  well,  if  yar  can  get  'old 
ob  some." 

"An'  sometink  to  drink?  " 

"  Iss.  Go  fetch  old  Mole's  bottle  we  brought  wid  us, 
yah, yah  !  Drop  ob  rum  do  me  lot  ob  good." 

' '  Course  it  would.  I  git  some  too.  As  you  gwine  to 
act  the  ghost,  it  bery  right  and  proper  you  liquor  up  wid 
de  sperrits  fust." 

And  with  a  broad  grin  at  his  own  humorous  idea,  Bogey 
left  the  cabin. 


7  2  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

He  was  soon  back  again  with  a  loaf  and  a  lump  of 
chalk,  and  last,  not  least,  a  pint  bottle  of  rum. 

Tinker  uncorked  the  bottle,  and  took  a  good  swig  at 
the  spirit,  which,  after  being  drenched  in  the  waves  he 
needed,  if  only  to  quicken  his  circulation. 

He  then  proceeded  to  convert  himself  into  a  ghastly 
spectre. 

His  first  step  in  this  transforming  process  was  to  give 
his  dusky  features  a  coat  of  whiting. 

"Want  eber  so  much  more,  yet,"  said  Bogey,  who 
watched  the  operation  with  much  interest.  "You  not 
more  dan  whitey-brown  at  present." 

"Dat  lot  much  too  white  for  niggers,"  responded 
Tinker  ;  "  niggers'  ghostes  not  white  at  all." 

"What  colour  am  dey,  den  ?  " 

"Grey,  excep'  when  de  weader  cold;  den  dey  turn 
blue." 

Tinker,  after  some  little  trouble,  contrived  with  the 
assistance  of  a  fragment  of  looking-glass,  to  bring  his  face 
to  a  very  ghostly  hue. 

Altogether,  he  performed  his  work  very  artistically. 

He  was  neither  too  white  nor  too  dark  ;  but  a  kind  of 
ashy  grey,  much  more  awful  to  contemplate. 

Having  finished  this,  he  wrapped  himself  in  a  couple 
of  sheets,  tied  a  pillow  case  round  his  head,  and  his 
spectral  make-up  was  completed. 

"  You  look  like  ghost  now,"  cried  Bogey,  in  an  ecstasy 
of  admiration,  "  dere  no  doubt  'bout  dat.  Me  run  fitch 
you  big  fish,  den  you  show  Chivey  you  come  from  bottom 
ob  de  sea." 

Tinker,  as  he  glanced  at  himself  in  his  small  mirror, 
could  but  think  that  he  was  the  very  cream  of  spectres  ; 
and  having  indulged  in  another  sip  of  rum,  and  taken  in 
hand  a  large  fish  Bogey  brought  him,  he  sat  down  to 
wait  until  the  moment  of  action  should  arrive. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  73 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  GUILTY  CONSCIENCE  A  BAD  COMPANION — THE  GROAN — THE 
WARNING  VOICE  FROM  THE  CHEST  OF  DRAWERS APPEAR- 
ANCE OF  THE  MURDERED  TINKER TERRIBLE  PREDICTION THE 

GHOST  SETS  HIS  MARK  ON  CHIVEY,    AND  DEPARTS. 

CHIVEY  had  been  spending  the  evening,  as  he  usually 
did  in  his  master's  company,  in  the  intellectual  pastime 
of  smoking  cigars  and  drinking  brandy. 

It  was  late  when  he  reached  his  own  cabin ;  which, 
owing  to  the  rolling  of  the  ship  and  the  liquor  he  had 
swallowed,  he  did  not  accomplish  very  easily. 

"Phew  !"  he  muttered,  as  he  entered,  and  after  several 
abortive  efforts,  locked  the  door  and  dropped  the  key. 
"  I've  had  a  reg'lar  good  soakin'  to-night.  Hang  me,  if 
I  don't  feel  more  than  half — hie — screwed." 

He  staggered  to  his  bed,  and  sat  down  upon  it. 

Looking  mistily  at  nothing  particular,  with  his  stump 
of  cigar  between  his  teeth. 

"My  mast'r's  jolly  good  fell'r,"  he  soliloquised;  "a 
reg'lar — hie — brick  ;  it's  pleas'r'  to  work — for — reg'lar — 
hie — brick. " 

He  sucked  hard  at  his  Havannah  stump  fora  moment, 
but  could  draw  no  smoke  from  it. 

It  had  gone  out. 

"Confound  the — hie — c'gar  !  but  no  mattT." 

His  thoughts  again  reverted  to  his  master. 

' '  How  pleased  Mr.  Herbert  was  when  I  told  him  how 
I'd  settled  that  black  beggar.  Ha,  ha  !  what  a  chase  he 
led  me  through  the — hie — rigging ;  wonder  I  hadn't  broke 
my  blessed — hie — neck.  Lucky  had  my  knife  in  pocket 
— that  dropped  him — cut  him  adrift,  and  now  he's  at  the 
bottom  of  the — hie — sea." 

With  a  half-drunken  chuckle,  Mr.  Chivey  leant  back 
on  his  bed,  and  looked  in  a  vacant  manner  at  his  top 
boots. 

"  Now  for  a  little  drop  more  brandy." 

But  before  he  could  drink,  an  awfully  hollow  groan 
made  him  pause  suddenly,  and  sit  bolt  upright. 


74  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  What  the  devil's  that !  "  he  muttered  to  himself. 

He  was  answered  by  a  second  groan,  more  hollow  and 
deeper  than  the  first. 

He  looked  round  him  apprehensively,  but  saw  nothing. 

Again  the  groan  was  repeated. 

"Somebody  got — hie — stomach  ache  nex'  door — must 
have.  What's  the  matter  ? — anyone  ill  ? "  he  shouted. 

Another  groan  was  returned  of  harrowing  intensity. 

"Don't  kick  up  that  jolly — hie — row,"  he  bawled;  "go 
to  sleep." 

"Oh,  oh  !  me  no  sleep  nebber  no  more  !  oh  !  "  groaned 
the  voice  again. 

These  words  had  a  startling  effect  on  the  valet. 

His  hair  began  to  bristle. 

His  cigar  dropped  from  between  his  chattering  teeth. 

The  flask  fell  from  his  trembling  hand. 

He  fancied  he  rcognised  the  voice. 

"Who  speaks?  "  he  gasped  at  length. 

"It  am  me." 

"Who  the  deuce  is  me  ? " 

"  I'm  de  ghost  ob  de  deceased  Tinker  what  you  killed 
and  sent  into  the  next  world  at  a  minnit's  notice." 

"  The  devil  you  are  !  "  shivered  the  conscience-stricken 
valet,  as  he  rolled  his  haggard  eyes  around  in  search  of 
the  speaker,  who  was  still  invisible. 

Mr.  Chivey,  who  was  rapidly  becoming  sober  under 
the  influence  of  terror,  felt  certain  in  his  own  mind  that 
the  ghost  was  in  the  chest  of  drawers. 

"It's  someone  havin'  a  lark  with  me,"  he  muttered  to 
himself;  "and  yet  how  could  any  thing  mortal  get  into 
that  drawer  when  it's  locked  ? "  he  thought. 

After  an  instant,  he  asked  of  the  spectre — 

' '  Where  are  you  ?  " 

"Dat  no  business  ob  yourn,  Massa  Chivey  !  "  the 
spectre  answered  in  a  dogged  tone. 

"It  is  my  business  !  "  cried  the  valet,  desperately  ;  "I 
know  where  you  are,  Mr.  Ghost — you're  in  my  bottom 
drawer ;  and  I'll  have  you  out  too  !  " 

A  sarcastic  laugh  responded  (evidently  from  the  afore- 
said keyhole),  and  then  died  away  in  a  hollow  murmur. 

Summoning  all  his  resolution,  Chivey  sprang  from  his 
bed,  and,  rushing  to  the  drawer,  unlocked  it  and  dragged 
it  out.  ' 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  75 

It  was  perfectly  empty. 

"W — w — well,  s — s — 'elp  me  n — n — never ! "  he  gasped, 
as  he  felt  the  drops  of  perspiration  trickling  down  his 
back;  "it  is  a — a — g — ghost  of  someone,  perhaps  mur- 
dered in  this  little  den  !  " 

With  trembling  hands  he  closed  the  drawer,  and  stag- 
gered back  to  his  bed. 

His  knees  knocking  together  as  he  staggered  to  his  bed, 
but  he  was  not  allowed  to  remain  in  peace. 

Again  the  awful  voice  was  heard  at  the  keyhole. 

"Massa  Chivey,  Massa  Chivey  !"  it  called.  "You 
have  done  a  drefful  murder,  and  I  want  you." 

"  W — w — what  do  yer  w — w — want?"  stammered  the 
terror-stricken  rough. 

"  It  you  I  want,"  was  the  hollow  reply. 

"  I'll  fetch  my  master  for  you.  I  c — c — can't  c — c — c 
— come  !  "  returned  Chivey,  scarcely  able  to  reply,  and 
feeling  strongly  inclined  to  shriek. 

"Don't  want  yar  master,  and  me  don't  want  you  to 
come  nowheres  just  at  present,"  continued  the  voice. 

"  That's  all  right,"  muttered  Chivey,  in  a  tone  of  relief; 
' '  go  back  to  the  next  world  as  soon  as  possible,  that's 
a  good  cove." 

"No  !  "  cried  the  spectre  peremptorily  ;  "  me  come  up 
from  de  bottom  ob  de  sea,  purpose  to  haunt  yar." 

"  Haunt  me  ?  "  groaned  the  perspiring  Chivey  ;  "oh, 
Lor'  !  oh,  Lor' !  " 

Then,  in  a  kind  of  desperate  mirth,  he  sang  out — 

"Tommy,  make  room  for  your  uncle." 

To  which  the  invisible  ghost  replied  solemnly — 

"Dere  no  room  for  Tommy,  nor  'um  uncle  neider." 

"Do  go  away,  there's  a  good  fellow  ;  give  young  Jack 
Harkaway  a  turn ;  I  don't  want  you.  I  want  to  go  to 
sleep,"  moaned  Chivey,  in  a  tone  of  despair. 

"Yar  nebber  gwine  to  sleep  no  more.  The  ghost  ob 
poor  Tinker  keep  you  'wake  ebery  night.  Him  ghost 
close  to  you  now." 

"  Don't,  don't,"  gasped  the  valet  ;  "  "  I — I'm  v — very 
s — sorry,  'pon  my  soul  I  am.  Hook  it,  for  goodness' 
sake,  or  I  shall  do  something  desperate." 

There  was  a  hollow  laugh  at  this. 

And  the  next  moment  a  white  object  rose  up  slowly 
behind  the  further  side  of  the  chest  of  drawers. 


76  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  grim,  ashen-grey  features 
of  the  spectre. 

They  belonged  to  the  dead  Tinker,  and  no  one  else. 

Chivey  recognised  them  with  his  eyes  starting  almost 
out  of  his  head,  and  sat  perfectly  helpless,  glaring  at  the 
ghastly  face. 

The  ghost,  with  its  stern,  unwinking  orbs,  glared  in 
return  at  him. 

"  Massa  Chivey  !  Massa  Chivey  !  "  exclaimed  the 
spectre  at  length,  in  an  awful  tone. 

"I'm  he — ere,"  gasped  the  unnerved  valet,  wishing 
from  the  bottom  of  his  heart  he  had  been  a  thousand 
miles  off. 

The  ghostly  form  extended  its  greyish-white  hand,  and 
continued  impressively — 

"Yarjes'  got  to  take  de  wool  out  ob  yar  ears,  and 
listen  to  what  I  say." 

"Haven't  g — g — got  any  w — w — wool  in  'em,"  mur- 
mured Chivey. 

"  Den  don't  take  it  out." 

"I  w — w — won't." 

"You  mind  and  pay  de  mos'  partickler  inattenshun. 
I  come  all  de  way  up  from  de  bottom  ob  de  sea  to  warn 
yar." 

"What  about?" 

"Ob  de  drefful  fate  dat  comin'  to  you  and  yourmassa." 

"What  fate?  "  inquired  Chivey,  a  nameless  terror  hold- 
ing him  fast. 

"You  bote  ob  you  goin'  to  de  nex'  worl'  together." 

"  You  mean  to  say  we're  a-goin'  to  die  ?  " 

"  It's  sartain  you  am  ;  dat  quite  settled." 

"Andwhen'sit  a-comin'  off  ?  "  asked  the  valet,  with 
quivering  lips  and  blanched  cheeks. 

"It  not  my  bis'ness  to  name  dates,"  responded  the 
ghost,  cautiously  ;  "  you'll  know  when  de  time  come." 

"And  me  and  the — the — guv'nor's  a-goin'  to  s — s — 
slope  together,  are  we  ?  "  said  Chivey. 

"Yes,  bote  togeder." 

"  At  a  short  notice  ?  " 

"Yes,  bery  sudden  ;  jes'  as  you  drop  me  into  the  sea,  you 
be  dropped." 

"Any  thing  else?  "  said  Chivey,  who  having  heard  the 
worst,  was  beginning  to  grow 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  77 

"Yes,  when  you  kill  dis  child,  him  drop  to  bottom  of 
de  sea,  and  die  ;  den  de  big  fish  come  to  poor  boy  Tinker 
and  begin  to  eat  him  up.  Dis  fish,"  said  Tinker,  holding 
up  the  one  brought  him  by  Bogey,  "eat  up  part  of 
Tinker  leg  ;  Tinker  not  like  it,  so  him  bring  it  you  ;  take 
'im. " 

And  Tinker  flung  the  dead  fish  at  Chivey's  head. 

Chivey  fell  back  half  dead  as  the  cold  fish  struck  him 
across  the  face. 

"Dat  all  for  de  present, "returned  the  ghost,  "gib  you 
more  nex'  time  me  come." 

Chivey  uttered  an  irritable  growl,  and  tried  to  rise. 

But  his  legs  failed  him,  and  he  tried  in  vain. 

But  as  he  pressed  his  hands  down  on  the  bed,  they 
came  in  contract  with  the  flask  of  brandy. 

His  semi-brutal  nature  had  been  almost  cowed  by  his 
supernatural  terrors,  but  it  reasserted  itself  as  his  fingers 
fastened  upon  the  bottle. 

"  Ghost  or  no  ghost !  man  or  devil,  livin'  or  dead  !  here 
goes,"  he  muttered  ;  and,  urged  on  by  an  impulse  he  could 
not  control,  he  hurled  the  flask  full  at  the  ghost's  head. 

The  spectre,  with  wonderful  dexterity,  caught  it — not 
on  the  part  intended,  but  in  his  hand. 

"  Yah,  yah,  yah  !  "  he  chuckled,  with  a  dreadfully  sar- 
castic grin  ;  "it  no  go,  Massa  Chivey  ;  notink  do  no 
harm  to  speckters,  'cose  dey  corp'ral  sperrits  ;  you  better 
take  back  de  bottle." 

With  these  words  he  sent  the  flask  flying  through  the 
air  on  its  return  journey. 

The  valet  had  a  kind  of  dim  consciousness  of  something 
whizzing  rapidly  towards  him,  which  he  made  a  kind  of 
frantic  effort  to  stop,  but  in  vain. 

The  fragile  article  went  straight  to  its  mark,  that  being 
Mr.  Chivey's  forehead. 

There  was  a  crash,  a  wound,  and  a  yell  at  one  and  the 
same  time. 

Mr.  Chivey  fell  back  on  the  bed. 

"  Murder  !  fiends !  devils  ! "  he  roared,  at  the  top  of  his 
voice. 

Suddenly  the  cabin  lamp  fell  off  its  nail  with  a  crash, 
and  went  out 

Total  darkness  reigned  around. 

"Massa  Chivey  !  Massa  Chivey  ! "  exclaimed  the  deep 


7  8  YO  UNO  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  AND 

hollow  voice  ;  "  me  gwine  back  now  to  de  subterranean 
debts  ob  de  ocean.  Adoo !  till  de  nex'  time.  Adoo ! 
adoo  !  ad oo  !  " 

The  voice  grew  fainter  and  fainter,  and  at  length  died 
away  and  was  heard  no  more;  but Chivey still  continued 
to  shout  "  Murder  !  "  so  lustily  that  it  distinctly  caught  the 
ears  of  the  sailors,  and  a  body  of  men  came  hurrying  to 
his  cabin.  The  door  was  locked. 

The  key  not  to  be  found. 

After  a  brief  consultation,  one  of  the  sailors  unlocked  it, 
by  a  very  simple  expedient. 

He  put  his  foot  through  the  panel. 

In  they  got ;  and  lanterns  being  procured,  they  found 
Chivey  lying  on  his  back  on  the  bed,  smothered  in  blood 
from  an  ugly  cut  on  his  forehead,  with  the  fragments  of 
the  flask  around  him. 

The  loss  of  his  vital  fluid  had  cooled  his  excitement, 
and  he  answered  vaguely  to  the  eager  questions  put  to 
him. 

He  had  been  dreaming — woke  up  in  a  fright — been 
attacked  by  a  nightmare. 

"But  how  about  this  shivered  bottle,  and  your  cracked 
frontispiece,  Mister  Chivey  ? "  said  Nat  Cringle,  the  sailor, 
who  had  forced  the  door. 

Chivey  couldn't — or  rather  wouldn't — give  any  informa- 
tion on  the  subject,  and  the  sailors,  having  bound  up  his 
wound,  retired,  considerably  perplexed. 

"  He's  been  havin'  a  single  combat  with  ole  Nick,  seems 
to  me.  Two  to  one  old  Nick  will  beat  the  tiger,"  remarked 
Nat  Cringle  to  his  mates. 

No  class  is  more  superstitious  than  sailors,  and  at  these 
words,  they  raised  their  eyebrows,  and  glanced  at  each 
other  ominously. 

"If  so  be  as  the  devil's  aboard,  we'd  better  look  out," 
they  murmured  ;  "it's  no  safe  craft  that  he  sails  in." 

Herbert  Murray,  who  had  strolled  in  with  the  rest,  re- 
mained behind  after  they  had  departed. 

"  What's  all  this  about,  Chivey  ?  "  he  asked  as  soon  as 
they  were  alone. 

"Blest  if  I  can  hardly  tell  yer,  guv'nor,"  returned  the 
valet,  in  a  pained  tone,  pressing  his  hand  to  his  aching 
forehead ;  "but  it  seems  to  me  I've  seen  a  beastly  ghost. 
I've  had  a  visitation." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  79 

'  A  visitation  ?    What  do  you  mean  ?  " 
'Well,  then,  I've  seen  a  spectre." 
'  Of  police  ?  " 

'  No,  a  real  live  spectre. " 

'  How  can  a  spectre  be  alive  ?  "  said  Murray. 

'  No,  no,  I  don't  mean  that.  I  mean  a  dead  ghost !  " 
cried  Chivey. 

His  master  burst  into  a  mocking  laugh. 

"Psha,  nonsense  !  A  case  of  delirium  tremens." 

' '  No,  it  ain't, "  growled  Chivey,  ' '  it's  Tinker — cuss  him. " 

"  What  of  him  !     He's  dead." 

"I  know  he  is.  And  I'll  take  my  oath  I've  seen  his 
ghost  to-night, "  cried  the  valet,  his  eyes  distending  with 
horror. 

' '  You  don't  mean  that  ? " 

"I  do,  by  all  that's  horrible,"  returney  Chivey. 

"What  did  he  want  ?"  asked  Murray,  recklessly. 

"  He  came  with  a  warning." 

"Oh  !" 

"Yes,  for  you  as  well  as  for  me.  For  both  on  us. 
We're  booked. " 

"What  for?" 

"Sudden  death  !  "  exclaimed  Chivey,  in  a  hollow  tone. 

The  mocking  smile  died  out  of  his  young  master's  face, 
and  he  said  no  more. 

Both  master  and  man  looked  blankly  at  each  other. 

Perhaps  at  that  moment  they  would  have  rejoiced  to 
know  that  poor  Tinker  was  still  alive. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

JACK  FINDS  OUT  BOGEY*S  SECRET — HERBERT  MURRAY   DETERMINES 

TO  GIVE  A  SUPPER THE  BILL  OF    FARE  IS  DECIDED  UPON THE 

SPECTRE  GETS  SCENT  OF  THE  FORTHCOMING  BANQUET. 

YOUNG  Jack  was  leaning  over  the  side  of  the  "Alba- 
tross "  in  deep  thought,  when  Harry  came  and  touched 
him  lightly  on  the  arm. 

"Jack." 

"  Hullo,  Harry!  you  startled  me,  for  I  was  thinking 
deeply." 


So 

"  What  about,  old  boy  ?  " 

"Poor  Tinker,  and  yet  sometimes,  Harry,  I  fancy 
Tinker  is  not  drowned,  for  I  see  Bogey  going  about  with 
a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eyes,  that  denotes  more  mischief 
than  sorrow. " 

"You're  right,  Jack.  I  have  noticed  Master  Bogey's 
happy,  yet  strange  ways  lately.  And  look,  here  comes 
the  young  imp  ;  let's  question  him,  Jack." 

"  Bogey  !  "  shouted  Jack.      "  Come  here,  sir." 

"Yes,  Massa  Jack,  here  am  Bogey." 

"  I  know  you  are  here,  sir,  and  now  I  want  to  ask  you 
a  question  or  two." 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  a  tousand,  if  you  like,  sir." 

"  Attention,  Bogey,"  said  Harry. 

"Now,  you  lump  of  mischief,  said  Jack.  "Where's 
my  boy  Tinker  ?  " 

Bogey  cast  down  his  eyes,  and  without  looking  up, 
replied — 

"  Tinker  fell  in  de  sea,  sar." 

"Yes,  "said  Jack,  "he  fell  in  the  sea,  I  know.  But 
where  is  he  now  ?  " 

Bogey  stood  before  Jack,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his 
life,  felt  confused. 

"  Now,  Bogey,  the  truth,  and  nothing  but  the  truth," 
said  Harry. 

"Well,  sare,  Tinker  down  below." 

'  In  the  sea  ? "  asked  Jack. 
'No,  sar,  below  in  my  bunk." 
'  Not  dead  ?  "  said  Harry. 
'He's  a  ghost,  sar,  splendiferous  ghost,  sar." 
'  A  ghost,"  cried  Jack  ;   "  and  not  dead  ?  " 
'  No,  sar  ;  Chivey  tink  he  kill  Tinker ;  Tinker  haunt 
him   and  frighten  him  and  his  master's  life  out,  ebery 
night,  sar." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  ! "  cried  Jack.  "  Go  on,  Bogey,  and  have 
your  game  out,  for  the  rascals  deserve  to  be  frightened 
for  their  villany. " 

"Yes,  sar.  T'ank  you,  sar;  Chivey  not  go  scot 
free.  Tinker  bery  clever,  no  cotch  weasel  asleep.  Yah, 
yah !  " 

And  away  ran  Bogey,  to  inform  Tinker  that  he  had 
Jack's  permission  to  torment  Chivey  and  his  master  out 
of  their  lives. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  81 

And  the  two  blacks  at  once  set  about  their  preparations 
for  an  immense  lark. 

"  I  say,  Chivey  !  " 

"  Yes,  guv'nor ;  Chivey  is  here  ;  what  ca'n  he  do  for 
you  ?  " 

"I'm  getting  heartily  sick  of  this  cranky  old  washing, 
tub." 

"Same  here,  guv'nor  ;  it's  a  regler  nausea." 

"Just  look  at  this  cabin,  what  a  state  it's  in." 

"Perfect  state  of  slush,  that's  a  fact.  Looks  as  if  it  had 
been  well  mopped,  and  badly  wiped." 

"It's  enough  to  give  a  fellow  the  rheumatic  fever. 
See,  the  water  is  making  way  through  ;  hang  me  if  I 
stand  it  any  longer." 

"  Don't,  guv'nor.  Come  into  my  'umble  cabin.  It  is 
water  tight." 

"So  I  will,  Chivey.  Any  thing's  better  than  a  blue 
mouldy  crib  like  this." 

This  conversation  took  place  between  Herbert  Murray 
and  Chivey  a  short  time  after  the  ghost  incident. 

The  relative  positions  of  a  master  and  servant  had  been 
almost  lost  sight  of  by  Herbert  Murray  since  he  had  been 
on  board. 

He  treated  his  tiger  as  his  confidant,  companion  and 
friend. 

Herbert  Murray  having  made  up  his  mind  to  vacate  his 
own  cabin,  had  his  'portable  traps  removed  to  his  new 
quarters. 

But  even  here  he  felt  anything  but  comfortable. 

Although  the  cabin  was  dry,  it  was  small,  gloomy  and 
close. 

"By  jingo,  Chivey,"  he  growled,  "I  was  about 
drowned  in  the  other  shop ;  I  think  I  shall  be  stifled  in 
this. " 

' '  Oh,  you'll  get  used  to  it,  guv'nor,  after  a  bit, "  was 
Chivey's  cheerful  reply. 

But  his  master  did  not  get  used  to  it. 

What  could  he  do  to  relieve  the  monotony  of  his  exis- 
tence— to  throw  a  little  life  and  jollity  into  that  gloomy, 
dingy  hole  ? 

At  last,  an  idea  flashed  across  him. 

"  We'll  have  a  banquet  on  a  small  scale,"  he  exclaimed 
suddenly. 
6 


82  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"A  feed,  I  s'pose  yer  mean,  don't  yer,  guv'nor?'4 
asked  Chivey,  looking  at  his  master. 

"Feed's  vulgar.  I  prefer  banquet;  it  sounds  more 
aristocratic,"  said  Herbert. 

"Well,  it  all  comes  to  the  same  thing  in  the  end,  don't 
it  ?  "  grinned  the  tiger.  "A  blow-out's  a  blow-out,  call  it 
what  you  like." 

"Can  it  be  managed?  "  asked  Herbert. 

"  Dessay  it  can,"  answered  Chivey,  "if  we  can  get  the 
Stewart  and  the  cook  in  a  line  to  give  us  tick.  But — I  say, 
guv'nor  !  " 

"Well?" 

"Supposing  we  can  make  it,  right,  where's  our  guests 
to  come  from,  eh  ? " 

"Ah,  true;  the  guests,"  echoed  Herbert  "I  forgot 
them." 

"  Must  have  guests,  to  join  in  with  us,  you  know.  We 
couldn't  bolt  the  lot  ourselves." 

"  Not  exactly.  Let  me  see,  now  who  is  there  on  board 
we  could  invite  ?  " 

"There's  the  captain  to  begin  with." 

"  Don't  care  about  him." 

"The  crew  ?" 

"Nor  them." 

"  Nor  Harkaway  and  his  pal,  I  s'pose  !  "  said  Chivey. 

Herbert  Murray  knitted  his  brows  and  looked  as 
black  as  thunder  at  this  question,  but  condescended  no 
reply. 

"Thought  yer  wouldn't  cotton  to  them,  guv'nor, "re- 
marked Chivey.  "Well,  then,  there's  only  one  more  I 
know  of." 

"Who's  he?" 

"Why,  that  tea-dealer  cove  as  answered  to  the  name  of 
Spriggins — or  Wiggins,  or  the  orphan,  or  something  of  that 
sort.' 

"  Splendid.     We'll  have  the  orphan,  by  all  means. " 

"Um,  well — suppose  we  say,  soup,  pair  of  fowls, 
boiled  ham." 

"  Soup,  pair  of  fowls,  boiled  ham,"  repeated  the  tiger, 
as  he  made  his  notes  in  his  book;  anything  else?" 

"Plum  pudding." 

"Ah,  yes;  must  have  a  plum  pudding.  And  now 
about  wine?" 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  83 

"  Port,  sherry,  claret,  and  champagne  ;  spirits  we  have 
already." 

"  Yes,  plenty,"  muttered  the  valet,  with  a  slight  shiver, 
as  he  completed  his  memoranda.  "I've  had  enough  of 
spirits  to  last  me  my  life. " 

"  Well  now,  Chivey,  I  leave  it  all  to  your  management." 

"I'll  do  it  in  tip-top  style,"  Chivey  replied. 

"  Don't  haggle  about  price,"  continued  his  master ;  "as 
I  never  intend  to  pay  for  it,  of  course  I  can  afford  to  be 
liberal. " 

"Of  course,"  ejaculated  Chivey,  with  the  most  knowing 
of  winks-.  "  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

After  which  Chivey  left  the  cabin  to  make  arrangements 
ft  r  the  forthcoming  banquet 


'Dat  you,  Bogey?" 
'  Yes,  it  me. " 

'  Golly,  me  so  glad  ;  make  haste  open  de  door,  me  got 
something  to  tell  you. " 
'  Am  it  good  noose  ?  " 
'Iss  !  Berry  much  splendifrous  good  noose." 

In  an  instant  the  key  was  thrust  into  the  lock. 

The  door  opened,  and  Tinker,  with  his  eyes  glisten- 
ing like  diamonds,  emerged  from  the  cupboard. 

"  Massa  Jack  know  you  alive,  Tinker;  him  asked  me 
all  'bout  you." 

"That  am  right,  Bogey;  me  glad  Massa  Jack  know 
Tinker  not  dead ;  me  hab  had  nice  smoke  and  drop  of 
Massa  Chivey's  brandy,  yah,  yah  !  " 

Mr.  Chivey  found  that  his  brandy  and  cigars  vanished 
in  a  remarkably  rapid  and  mysterious  manner. 

And  not  being  able  to  account  for  their  disappearance 
in  any  other  way,  he  was  compelled  to  attribute  it  to 
spiritual  agency. 

"  It's  that  darned  ghost !  "  he  would  mutter  to  himself. 

And  he  was  quite  right — it  was. 

But  he  was  perfectly  willing  to  stand  any  quantity  of 
drink  and  smoke  to  the  spectre,  provided  it  did  not  haunt 
him  with  its  terrible  presence. 

Little,  however,  did  he  dream  that  this  supernatural 
being  had  been  listening  with  intense  interest  to  the  con- 
versation between  his  master  and  himself,  and  that  he 


84  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

knew  all  about  their  arrangements  as  well  as  they  did 
themselves. 

It  was  this  secret  he  was  now  bursting  to  impart  to  his 
comrade. 

"Oh,  golly!  golly!  what  you  tink?"  he  exclaimed 
eagerly. 

"What?" 

"Massa  Chivey  an'  Massa  Muggy  (he  meant  Murray) 
gwine  hab  supper  t'morrer  night." 

"Dat  nuffink,"  answered  Bogey,  in  a  slight  tone  of 
disgust ;  "  cicy  hab  supper  eb'ry  night." 

"'  On  1  but  dis  sometink,"  Tinker  insisted,  opening  his 
eyes  as  wide  as  saucers ;  "  dis  great  big  'normous  supper. 
Whar  dey  call  gran'  blanket." 

"Blanket!"  echoed  Bogey,  thoughtfully,  "dat  what 
dey  put  in  de  beds  ;  dey  don't  eat  blankets  for  supper." 

"Tell  ye  dey  do  !  What  you  mean  by  contraflick  me, 
sar,  eh,  you  nigger  ?  "  cried  Tinker  indignantly. 

"Nebber  'noo  any  one  eat  blankets  but  boa  con- 
structor, and  den  he  choke  'isself,"  Bogey  ventured  to 
remark. 

"Well,  den,  dere  gwine  to  be  great  blow-up  blanket 
to-morrer  night,  in  de  nex'  cabin,"  said  Tinker;  "and 
Massa  Piggins  invited." 

"Oh,  de  orflan?" 

"  Iss.  And  dey  gwine  to  hab  all  sort  ob  beau'ful  grubs 
to  eat." 

"What  dey  gwine  to  hab?  "  asked  Bogey,  his  mouth 
beginning  to  water. 

"Fuss  dey  hab  soap." 

"Datnice?     What  nex'?" 

" Pair  ob  bile  fools?" 

"  Golly,  dat  better  ;  bile  fools  bery  delishus." 

"  Den  dere  ham,  to  eat  'long  ob  de  fools  !  " 

"  Dat  am  prime.     Any  tink  else  ?  " 

"Plum  poodle!"  exclaimed  Tinker,  with  immense 
emphasis. 

"Oh,  golly  !  golly  ;  plum  poodle  !  dat  am  bery  lubly," 
joined  in  Bogey,  exultingly. 

After  a  moment  he  asked — 

"Am  dey  gwine  to  hab  any  wine? " 

"Iss,  golly!  lots.  Dey  gwine  to  hab  pork,  jerry, 
cracket,  an  chilblain.'* 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  85 

Tinker  must  be  pardoned  for  his  singular  version  of  the 
wine  list. 

It  being  the  nearest  approach  his  memory  permitted 
to  port,  sherry,  claret  and  champagne. 

But  it  was  perfectly  satisfactory  to  Bogey,  who  grinned 
all  over  his  face  with  astonishment. 

The  two  darkies  remained  licking  their  lips  and  rubbing 
their  stomachs  for  several  seconds,  in  a  kind  of  blissful 
mental  reverie. 

At  length,  Bogey,  rousing  himself,  said  wistfully — 

"Couldn't  we  get  a  bit  ob  dis  blanket  for  ourself ?  " 

"  Rader  !  "  returned  Tinker,  with  a  wink  that  would 
have  cracked  a  walnut;  "dis  chile  mean  hab  big  large 
bit. "  .  .  '  ' 

"Me  too,"  put  in  Bogey. 

"Ob  course,"  replied  Tinker;  "you  help  me,  I  feed 
you." 

"  Me  help,  s'elp  him  golly  'im  will !     What  you  want  ?  " 

"Long  bit  ob  wire,  wid  hook  at  de  end  ob  it,"  said 
Tinker,  with  a  grin. 

"  Any  tink  more?" 

"A  fork  wid  long  handle,  d sharp  at  de  points." 

"Any  tink  more?" 

"  Notink.  You  get  me  de  ob'lisks  what  I  bin  perscrib- 
ing  to  you,  and  we  hab  reg'lar  good  blow-up — you  see." 

"What  time  the  blanket  gwine  begin  ?  " 

"Eight  o'clock,"  Tinker  answered. 

And  then  with  a  chuckle  of  intense  exultation,  the 
lively  ghost  slipped  once  more  into  his  cupboard,  whilst 
his  accomplice  went  on  the  prowl  for  the  apparatus 
necessary  to  the  successful  carrying  out  of  their  designs. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  SUPPER  COMES  OFF — CHIVEY  HAS  A  PRELIMINARY  INTIMATION 

OF  THE  GHOST'S    PRESENCE THE    ORPHAN    COMES  OUT    RATHER 

STRONG SPIRITUAL   INFLUENCES — SPECTRAL. 

CHIVEY,  by  means  of  unblushing  cheek  and  a  remark- 
able facility  for  lying,  got  on  very  well  with  the  steward 
of  the  "Albatross." 


86  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

Promising  that  worthy  individual,  on  his  master's  part, 
a  cheque  for  the  entire  amount  due  to  him  the  moment 
the  vessel  touched  land,  he  consented  to  provide  all  that 
was  required  for  the  banquet. 


It  was  near  upon  eight  o'clock. 

Herbert  Murray  and  his  tiger  were  quite  ready  for 
supper,  and  in  excellent  appetite. 

So  also  were  two  other  individuals. 

Tinker  and  Bogey,  to  wit,  who  were  snugly  posted  at 
the  secret  panel,  hungry  as  a  couple  of  alligators. 

Tinker  had  assumed  his  ghostly  garments  and  whitened 
his  face  to  be  ready  for  any  emergency,  and  he  now 
waited  anxiously  the  opportunity  to  commence  his  oper- 
ations. 

Eight  o'clock  struck. 

The  cabin  door  opened,  and  the  cook  entered  with  the 
tureen. 

The  secret  panel  also  moved  slightly  at  the  same  time, 
and  could  any  human  eye  have  been  strong  enough  to 
pierce  through  the  chest  of  drawers,  two  black  noses 
might  have  been  seen  at  the  aperture  sniffing  eagerly. 

"  Dere  de  soap,"  whispered  Tinker. 

"  Don't  'urn  smell  beau'ful,"  whispered  Bogey. 

Herbert  Murray  and  his  tiger  seated  themselves  at  the 
table,  which  stood  conveniently  near  the  drawers. 

The  chair  placed  for  their  guest  was  vacant. 

He  had  not  yet  arrived. 

"  Where's  the  orphan  ?  "  asked  Herbert. 

"  I  told  him  eight  sharp,"  Chivey  answered, 

Mr.  Figgins  at  that  moment  was  looking  for  some  arti- 
cle of  dress  which  had  got  stowed  away  in  a  corner  out 
of  his  sight. 

As  he  did  not  make  his  appearance,  Herbert  said — 

"  I'll  go  and  hunt  him  up.  The  supper  will  be  nothing 
without  the  orphan,  Figgins." 

With  this,  he  hurried  out  of  the  cabin. 

"Who's  a-going  to  wait  for  orphans?  "  said  Chivey  to 
himself,  as  his  master  disappeared.  "I  ain't;  I'm  on  my 
peck.  Here  goes." 

And  as  he  spoke,  he  removed  the  lid  of  the  tureen,  and 
helped  himself  to  a  plateful  of  savoury  ox-tail. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  87 

"Ah  !  "  he  exclaimed,  smacking  his  lips  as  the  fragrance 
mounted  to  his  nostrils,  "this  is  something  like,  this  is 
a  fine — stop  !  where's  the  napkin  ?  Oh,  here  it  is.  May 
as  well  do  it  in  style.  Now  then,"  he  cried,  as  he  turned 
round  to  the  table  and  grasped  his  spoon,  "  if  there's  one 
thing  in  the  world  I  like,  it's  a  good  plate  of  ox-tails " 

The  word  died  away  upon  his  lips. 

The  spoon  dropped  from  his  hand. 

He  gazed  upon  a  vacant  space. 

Both  plate  and  soup  had  vanished. 

"What  the  devil's  up  now?  "  he  muttered  to  himself; 
"  I'll  swear  it  was  there  a  second  ago." 

He  looked  apprehensively  first  over  one  shoulder,  and 
then  over  the  other,  but  saw  nothing.  An  unpleasant 
sensation  began  to  steal  over  him. 

He  glanced  up  at  the  dim  yellow  flame  of  the  solitary 
cabin  lantern. 

"What  a  bad  light,"  he  growled  nervously,  "like  a 
farthing  rushlight  in  a  fog.  It's  enough  to  give  a  cove 
the  horrors." 

With  a  hand  slightly  tremulous  he  poured  out  a  bumper 
of  sherry. 

"There's  nothing  like  a  glass  of  good  wine  to  steady 
a  chap's  nerves,"  he  soliloquised,  as  he  was  about  to  drink. 

A  strange  and  indescribable  sound  caught  his  ear,  and 
caused  him  to  pause,  and  look  once  more  with  increased, 
trepidation  behind  him.  Still  there  was  nothing  to  be 
seen. 

With  a  fretful  ejaculation  he  turned  round  again. 

"  Oh,  hang  it  all !  "  he  cried,  with  an  attempt  at  reck- 
lessness ;  "  who's  afraid  ?  " 

Seizing  his  glass  hastily,  he  raised  it  to  his  lips,  but 
lowered  it  as  quickly  again  in  dismay. 

It  was  empty. 

"Angels  an'  ministers  of  grease  defend  us  !  "  he  gasped, 
in  an  awe-stricken  tone,  as  he  glared  at  the  empty  tumbler  ; 
"this  d d  crib's  haunted,  and  every  thing  in  it." 

In  a  kind  of  paroxysm  of  terror,  he  made  a  sudden 
rush  to  the  door,  and  threw  it  open,  just  in  time  to  admit 
his  master  and  his  guest,  who  returned  at  the  moment. 

The  sight  of  them  somewhat  restored  him  to  himself. 

"  Oh,  there  you  are,  guv'nor,"  he  said,  as  he  wiped  the 
drops  from  his  forehead. 


88  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"Yes,  here  we  are,"  returned  Hurbert  Murray.  "Mr. 
Figgins  was  detained  by  an  unfortunate  domestic  calamity, 
having  lost  his " 

"Grandmother?  " 

"No,  his  boots." 

"  Poor  soul !  "  murmured  Chivey. 

"I've  lost  all — all,"  murmured  Figgins,  in  a  tone  of 
anguish.  "I'm  only  a  poor,  and  unprotected  orphan, 
who " 

Herbert  Murray  cut  him  short  by  saying — 

"Let's  hope  you  haven't  lost  your  appetite,  Mr.  Fig- 
gins  at  any  rate." 

He  accompanied  this  inquiry  with  a  playful  slap  on  the 
back. 

Chivey,  who  had  now  recovered  himself,  gave  him 
another  playful  slap  on  the  same  spot. 

"Oh,  ugh!"  gasped  Mr.  Figgins,  who  was  startled 
almost  out  of  his  patent  leathers  ;  ' '  pray  don't  do 
that ;  my  nerves  are  very  weak,  and  being  only  a  poor 
orphan " 

"Yes,  exactly,"  interposed  Herbert  Murray,  hurrying 
his  guest  to  the  table  ;  "  we'll  have  the  rest  by  and  bye." 

"  Now,  gentlemen,  be  seated,"  he  exclaimed,  grandly  ; 
"the  banquet  awaits." 

They  all  three  sat  down,  but  instantly  sprang  up  again 
with  a  yell,  and  clapped  their  hands  simultaneously  to 
their  coat  tails. 

"Oh,  oh,  I'm  mortally  wounded,"  shrieked  the  orphan, 
writhing  like  a  worm  on  a  hook. 

Herbert  Murray  looked  suspiciously  at  his  tiger,  then 
at  the  seat  of  his  chair,  from  which  a  very  handsome 
corking  pin  protruded,  point  uppermost. 

With  a  frown  he  fixed  his  eyes  again  on  Mr.  Chivey, 
who  was  holding  his  hands  to  his  back,  and  like  the 
orphan,  seemed  to  be  suffering  pain  there. 

"  Is  this  one  of  your  confounded  Whitechapel  jokes  ? " 
he  demanded,  in  an  angry  tone. 

"No,  'pon  my  soul,  it  ain't,  guv'nor,"  Chivey  answered, 
promptly,  with  a  very  wry  face,  "  for  I'm  a  wictim  my- 
self. I've  got  the  pain  here,"  and  he  slapped  his  hands 
behind  him. 

Murray  found  they  were  all  supplied  with  a  pin  apiece 
— and  a  large  one  it  was — in  each  of  their  chairs. 


I/IS  BOY  TINKER.  89 

They  looked  at  each  other  in  silent  amazement. 

"  Who  can  have  done  this  ? "  said  Herbert,  indignantly. 

"Well,  if  I  must  express  my  sentiments,"  Chivey  re- 
plied very  seriously,  after  a  moment,  "I  should  say  it 
was  Figgins,  the  wicked  orphan." 

"  Me  !  "cried  the  unprotected  one,  holding  up  his  hands 
in  the  intensity  of  horror  and  pain.  "Oh,  dear,  dear, 
dear  me ;  a  helpless  orphan  who  never — 

The  look  and  tone  of  the  innocent  being  were  so  irre- 
sistibly comic,  that  Herbert  Murray  burst  into  a  roar  of 
laughter,  which  was  echoed,  though  cautiously,  by  the 
ghost  and  his  confederate  from  behind  the  drawers. 

"  It  was  only  a  joke,  my  dear  Figgins,''  said  Herbert, 
after  a  moment;  "and  there's  one  comfort,  as  we're  all 
sufferers  in  this  case,  one  can't  laugh  at  the  other." 

' '  It  doesn't  matter  much, "  sighed  the  orphan,  dolefully  ; 
"it  does  smart ;  yes,  it  smarts  very  much,  but  I  feel  I'm 
destined  for  an  early  grave." 

"Well,  have  some  soup 'fore  you  start,  anyhow,  Fig- 
gins,"  urged  Chivey,  as  he  handed  him  a  plateful. 

"I've  no  appetite,  and  I'm  afraid  of  my  wounds  morti- 
fying," wailed  the  tea-dealer. 

"Oh,  gammon  !  that  soup'll  set  yer  to  rights  if  any 
think  will.  Pitch  into  it." 

The  orphan  did  as  he  was  desired,  and  considering  he 
had  no  appetite,  it  was  wonderful  how  rapidly  the  ox-tail 
disappeared  down  his  throat. 

"Yer  find  it  rayther  tasty,  don't  yer,  old  Cocky  wax  ?" 
asked  Chivey. 

"Well — a — I  think — yes — very  nice  and  relishing  in- 
deed, but  my  name  is  not  Cocky  wax." 

"Well,  never  mind,  I'll  take  a  glass  of  wine  with  you, 
Mr.  Figgins,"  said  Herbert. 

"  Proud  and  happy,  I'm  sure." 

"  Your  health." 

"Thank'ee;  yours." 

"I'll  drink  with  you,  Figgins,"  cried  Chivey,  as  he  filled 
his  glass. 

"  You're  very  kind,  but  I've  just  drank  and " 

"Well,  drink  again." 

"  I'm  afraid  ;  my  wound  still  smarts,  and  my  head's  not 
over  strong,  and  being  only  a  poor  orph " 

"Oh,    come,   that   be  blowed.     Drop   it,    and   drink. 


90  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

Here's  wishin'  some  nice  gal  may  take  pity  on  yer  help- 
less condition,  and  make  yer  a  happy  husband  and  the 
father  of  a  dozen  kids. " 

"Oh,  horror  !" 

The  orphan  dropped  his  glass  on  the  spot  and  fainted. 

Being  brought  to,  he  asked  for  some  port,  and  hoped 
Mr.  Chivey  would  never  say  such  a  dreadful  thing  again 
to  him. 

Chivey  filled  him  a  bumper,  and  he  drank  it  off. 

The  fowls  and  ham  came  next. 

"Take  a  leg,  Mr.  Figgins?"  said  Herbert. 

"Thank  you,  if  you  please." 

"How  orful  purlite  you  are,  Figgins,"  said  Chivey. 

"Can't  help  it ;  I  was  always  brought  up  to  be  polite. 
My  venerable  parent — bless  his  memory  ! — never  omitted 
to  chastise  me  soundly  whenever  I  committed  a  breach 
of  politeness.  I — I — think  with  your  permission,  gentle- 
men, I'll  drink  his  health." 

' '  Cert'nly  !  "  cried  Chivey,  ' '  port  ag'in  ? " 

"Port  again,  if  you  please." 

All  the  glasses  being  filled,  the  company  rose. 

' '  To  the  health  of  the  dear  departed, "  said  Mr.  Figgins, 
impressively. 

"The  dear  departed,"  echoed  the  rest. 

The  orphan  emptied  his  glass,  sat  down,  and  sighed 
deeply. 

Then,  taking  up  his  knife  and  fork,  he  prepared  to  set 
to  work  in  earnest  at  the  ham  and  chicken. 

Suddenly  he  uttered  an  ejaculation — 

"Why,  where's  it  all  gone?  "he  exclaimed  in  blank 
amazement. 

"Where's  what  gone?  "  inquired  Herbert  Murray  and 
Chivey. 

"Why,  the  ham  and  chicken,"  he  replied  ;  "  my  plate's 
empty. " 

"So  it  is,"  said  Herbert,  "and — by  Heaven  !  "  he  ex- 
claimed, in  a  startled  tone,  as  he  glanced  at  his  own  plate, 
"so  is  mine." 

"And  mine,  too,  s'elp  me  wonderful !  "  cried  Chivey, 
as  he  fell  back  in  his  chair,  with  his  hair  standing  on 
end. 

The  ghost  had  taken  advantage  of  the  moment  when 
the  company  rose,  and  were  drinking,  to  slip  his  hand 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  9! 

out  quickly,  and  accomplish  the  feat  that  had  such  an 
astounding  effect. 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  dead  silence,  which  was 
broken  rather  strangely  by  the  orphan,  who  said  with  a 
slight  hiccough — 

' '  Nor'r  glass — hie — port. " 

The  wine  was  poured  out. 

Herbert  and  Chivey  drank  brandy,  and  then,  their 
nerves  being  fortified,  they  commenced  a  search  under 
the  table. 

Whilst  thus  engaged,  a  long  fork  was  mysteriously 
thrust  out  from  behind  the  chest  of  drawers  and  then 
withdrawn  quickly  several  times. 

Each  time  it  disappeared  it  carried  away  a  bottle,  which 
it  caught  by  its  neck  between  the  prongs. 

Before  the  search  under  the  table  was  concluded,  there 
was  not  a  bottle  to  be  seen. 

The  remains  of  the  fowl  had  also  been  forked  away. 

"There  must  be  a  trap  or  something  of  that  sort,"  said 
Herbert,  as  he  and  his  companions  examined  the  floor  on 
their  hands  and  knees  ;  but  there  was  no  sign  of  any  such 
thing. 

It  was  most  bewildering. 

"It  may  be  occasioned  by — hie — spiritual  influences," 
murmured  the  orphan,  as  he  peered  on  the  ground,  with 
his  coat-tails  over  his  shoulders,  and  the  bow  of  his  white 
cravat  under  his  left  ear. 

' '  Spiritual  humbug  1  Spiritual  bosh  I  "  growled  Chivey, 
who  was  sore  upon  the  subject,  and  sought  to  conceal 
his  inward  fears  by  a  tone  of  bravado;  "you're  tight, 
Figgins." 

"No,  my  dear  boy,"  returned  that  forgiving  individual, 
"not  t-tight,  not 'tall  t-t-ight,  only  powerfully — hie — im- 
pressed. Let's  have  glass — hie — brandy." 

This  was  readily  agreed  to,  and  the  party  dragged  them- 
selves once  more  to  an  upright  position,  but  only  to  re- 
ceive a  fresh  shock. 

The  table  was  cleared  of  every  thing  but  the  empty 
plates  and  the  ham. 

Herbert  Murray  collapsed,  and  fell  back  in  his  chair. 

His  tiger  turned  deadly  pale. 

The  orphan  looked  blandly  at  nothing  at  all,  and 
smiled. 


Q2  YC  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AMD 

"This  confounded  place  is  the  abode  of  evil  spirits," 
exclaimed  Herbert,  at  length,  looking  particularly  be- 
wildered. 

"It's  the  devil  himself,  and  no  one  else,"  muttered 
Chivey,  in  a  tone  of  horror. 

Just  at  this  moment  the  door  opened,  and  the  cook 
appeared. 

"Plum  pudden,  gentlemen,"  he  said,  as  he  placed  it 
on  the  table. 

Ashamed  to  show  the  man  the  mental  trepidation  they 
were  in,  Herbert  said  in  as  steady  a  tone  as  he  could — 

"  More  wine." 

"Yes,  sir,"  the  man  replied,  in  some  surprise,  thinking 
the  party  must  have  drunk  uncommonly  hard,  if  they  had 
emptied  all  their  bottles. 

"Shall  I  take  away  the  empty  bottles,  sir? "  he  asked, 
after  a  moment. 

"Ye — es,  if  yer  can  find  'em,"  replied  Chivey,  with  a 
kind  of  grimly  ironical  mirth. 

"Umph!"  muttered  the  cook  to  himself  as  he  went 
out;  "swallowed  the  bottles  as  well,  I  s'pose." 

The  events  that  had  occurred  had  quite  taken  away  the 
appetites  of  two  at  least  of  the  party. 

The  orphan,  not  being  impressed  with  ghostly  fears, 
sat  down,  and  began  innocently  enough  to  pick  the  plums 
out  of  the  pudding  with  his  fork.  Herbert  Murray  drew 
his  tiger  aside. 

"  You  told  me  not  long  since,  you  had  had  a  visitation," 
he  said  to  him  in  a  low  tone. 

"Yes,  from  the  ghost  of  that  d d  nigger  Tinker," 

replied  Chivey  hoarsely. 

"I've  heard,"  continued  his  master,  "that  those  who 
have  been  murd " 

"Oh,  don't — don't,  guv'nor." 

"Well,  then,  those  who  have  died  violent  deaths  some- 
times appear  to  those  who  have  destroyed  them. " 

"  Yes,  yes, "groaned Chivey,  in  a  hollow  voice  ;  "  that's 
it.  It's  that  cussed  ghost  that's  doing  all  this.  I  wish  to 
goodness  the  black  beggar  was  alive  again,  I'd " 

A  deep,  hollow  groan  at  this  juncture  put  a  stop  to  the 
tiger's  expressions  of  remorse. 

"There  he  is  !  that's  his  voice,"  he  cried.  "It  scares 
me  like  a  voice  from  a  bury  ing-ground." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  93 

The  orphan  stopped  picking  his  plums,  and  looked 
round  inquiringly. 

"  W-w-har-rat  ?  "  he  asked,  in  an  incoherent  tone.  ""It 
sounds  like  a  groan." 

Herbert  Murray  sprang  desperately  on  a  chair. 

"  I'll  stand  it  no  longer,"  he  cried,  as  he  hastily  snatched 
down  the  lantern. 

The  yellow  flame  flickered  from  the  tug  it  had  received, 
and  seemed  inclined  to  go  out. 

To  his  horror,  at  that  instant  the  ham  sprang  up  from 
the  dish,  and  began  to  perform  as  good  a  jig  as  a  ham 
could  be  expected  to  do  in  the  air. 

' '  Lor'  'a'  mercy,  what's  the  matter  with  the  ham  ?  I'm 
poor  helpless — hie— orphan, "  gasped  Mr.  Figgins,  as  he 
fell  over  the  chair  and  all  to  the  ground  at  this  unearthly 
spectacle. 

At  the  same  moment,  the  dish  containing  the  plum- 
pudding — without  any  perceptible  means — glided  off  the 
table,  and  disappeared. 

Chivey  uttered  a  cry  of  horror. 

Herbert  Murray  rushed  forward. 

A  crash  and  a  shriek  were  heard. 

The  lantern  had  fallen  from  his  hand. 

The  ham  had  stopped  dancing  suddenly  (the  hook  hav- 
ing broken  away  from  the  wire  that  sustained  it),  and  the 
shriek  came  from  the  prostrate  orphan,  on  whose  upturned 
face  it  came  down  with  a  tremendous  slap. 

Consternation  prevailed. 

Only  a  faint  glimmer  came  from  the  almost  extinct 
light. 

When  suddenly,  to  add  to  the  horrors  of  the  moment, 
the  table  itself  became  inspired  with  motion,  and  began 
a  horrible  and  unnatural  dance  round  and  round,  back- 
wards and  forwards. 

Down  the  middle  and  up  again  it  went,  as  no  table 
ever  went  before. 

"Oh,  take  me  out  and  bury  me,  someone,"  yelled  the 
half  tipsy  and  horrified  Chivey,  as  he  clung  to  his  master. 

"Ghost  or  devil,  depart,"  shouted  Herbert  Murray, 
hoarsely,  who  was  like  the  rest,  half  tipsy  from  the  effect 
of  the  port  wine  and  brandy  mixture,  and  he  tried  to  kick 
the  table. 

* '  Murder — murder — poor  helpless — orphan — hie — mur« 


9q.  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HA  RKA  WAY  A  ND 

der !  "  shrieked  Mr.  Figgins,  as  he  lay  on  his  back  and 
did  nothing.  "Somebody  come  and  pick  up  a  poor 
orphan." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  SICK  MAN'S  LEECH — JOVIAL   CAPTAIN   ROBINSON   MEETS  WITH 
A  DISAPPOINTMENT UGLY  THOUGHTS. 

WE  must  now  return  to  Mr.  Murray.  Our  readers  will 
remember  we  left  him  stricken  with  grief  at  the  departure 
of  his  son  in  the  ship  "  Albatross." 

He  was  borne  away  insensible  by  the  policeman,  and 
taken  home  to  bed. 

During  Mr.  Murray's  illness  his  ravings  were  of  so  ugly 
a  nature,  that  it  was  indeed  fortunate  no  listeners  were 
nigh,  for  some  unpleasant  rumors  might  possibly  have 
got  abroad  else. 

One  day,  however,  the  third  after  Mr.  Murray's  seizure 
with  his  illness,  jovial  Captain  Robinson  came  there  to 
inquire  after  him. 

The  doctor's  orders  were  that  no  one  was  to  be  ad- 
mitted to  the  sick  room  under  any  pretext  whatever. 

But  jovial  Captain  Robinson  was  one  of  those  men  who 
would  not  be  denied. 

So  up  he  went. 

"My  leech  must  be  applied  again,"  he  muttered  to 
himself. 

He  opened  the  door,  and  entered. 

At  the  very  moment  he  crossed  the  threshold  the  sick 
man  was  raving  wildly. 

"Who  calls  the  'Albatross 'a  coffin  ship?  Ill  have 
the  law  of  any  man  that  dares  disparage  my  property — 
my  own  boy's  on  her — ha !  ha !  And  would  I  set  my 
own  flesh  and  blood  afloat  in  a  doomed  hull  ?  Liars  ! 
Heavily  insured  !  Of  course  she  is  !  Of  course  she  is  ! 
and  hark !  hark  !  how  the  wind  whistles,  and  how  the 
waves  moan  and  moan,  before  they  send  out  their  roar 
that  foretells  woe  to  the  underwriters,  and — hark  !  what 
was  that  ?  " 

Jovial  Captain  Robinson  was  just  a  bit  startled  at  this 
point 


HIS  BOY  TINKER. 


95 


The  sick  man  started  up  in  his  bed,  and  said  this  so 
pointedly  at  the  jovial  captain,  that  the  latter  answered 
involuntarily — 

"Which?" 

"Did  you  not  hear? — aery  for  help!  A  despairing 
cry — a  wail  of  agony,  as  the  cruel  waves  close  over  the 
poor  drowning  wretch.  What  voice  is  that?  Surely,  I 
know  it — yes — it  is,  it  is  my  boy's. " 

And  then  the  sick  man  cowered,  in  his  frenzy,  up  in  a 
corner  of  the  bed. 

There  was  something  very  unpleasant  in  all  this,  and 
the  jovial  Captain  Robinson  turned  pale. 

"Dead,  gone,  are  you,  my  poor,  foolish  boy!"  said 
the  patient,  with  a  moan,  as  though  a  settled  remorse 
was  upon  him,  for  a  matter  which  was  no  longer 
new. 

"I  have  done  it  all — I — I — your  fond,  foolish  old 
father,  that  would  have  given  my  heart's  best  blood  to 
save  you  a  pang.  I  ruined  you  firstly  by  my  want  of 
firmness  and  decision  of  character,  and  lastly,  by  my 
sternness,  that  came  so  suddenly  upon  him.  But  I'll  not 
live!  Why  should  I  when  he's  gone?  There's  no 
reason  why  I  should.  Get  me  a  razor,  nurse  ;  I'll  soon 
put  an  end  to  this.  One  good  sharp  stroke,  and  I'll  take 
my  head  clean  off;  and  hark  you  here." 

He  sank  his  voice  to  a  loud  whisper. 

"When  Robinson  comes  to  put  on  the  screw  for  hush 
money — his  leech,  as  he  calls  it — you  can  throw  my  head 
at  him — that'll  show  him " 

And  the  sick  man  gave  a  weird  chuckle  at  this  ghastly 
conceit. 

Suddenly  he  seized  himself  by  the  throat,  and  tried  to 
strangle  himself,  but  Robinson  caught  hold  of  him,  and 
held  him  down. 

A  sharp  tussle  ensued,  for  although  Captain  Robinson 
was  a  very  powerful  man  compared  to  Mr.  Murray,  yet 
the  latter  was  nerved  by  frenzy,  and  he  made  a  desperate 
fight  for  it. 

At  length  the  nurse  came  in,  and  lent  a  hand. 

And  between  them  they  contrived  to  strap  the  wretched 
man  down,  and  put  him  out  of  the  way  of  doing  himself 
harm. 

"  A  lucky  thing  you  was  here,  sir,"  said  the  nurse  ;  "I 


96  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

only  left  the  room  for  a  minute ;  but  I  should  never  dare 
to  again — never." 

Captain  Robinson  mumbled  something,  and  glided  out 
of  the  sick  room,  and  into  the  street. 

The  colour  had  left  his  cheek,  and  his  jovial  manners 
disappeared. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

ON  BOARD  A  COFFIN   SHIP — ALL   HANDS    TO    THE    PUMP — NAT 
CRINGLE   LETS  THE  CAT  OUT  OF  THE  BAG. 

A  SHORT  time  after  our  friends  Tinker  and  Bogey  had 
had  their  fun  out  with  young  Murray  and  Chivey,  Jack 
and  Harry  were  in  deep  conversation  about  the  ship  they 
were  sailing  in. 

"Harry,"  said  Jack,  "what  do  you  think  of  this  ship, 
•eh,  old  boy  ? " 

"Well,  Jack,  I  have  been  thinking  that  although  they 
say  the  '  Albatross  '  is  such  a  clinker,  she  is  certainly  not 
famed  for  speed." 

"Speed,"  echoed  young  Jack,  "why,  I  call  her 
precious  slow." 

"Slow,"  exclaimed  a  voice  behind  them;  "  I  call  her 
an  old  crawler." 

They  looked  round,  and  there  stood  a  big  sturdy  sailor, 
one  who  had  often  touched  his  forelock  to  them  in  hopes 
they  would  have  spoken  to  him. 

He  was  six  feet  high,  and  a  little  bit  over,  and  had  a 
pair  of  shoulders  on  him  that  would  inspire  respect  in  the 
champion  pugilist  of  England. 

"  That's  strong  language,  Nat  Cringle,"  said  young 
Jack. 

"Strong,"  quoth  the  sailor;  "is  it?  Not  stronger 
than  I  mean." 

"Why?" 

"Why?  Because  she's  the  slowest  old  tub  that  was 
ever  built  of  sponge — a  rotten  old  hull  that  ought  to  have 
been  burnt  up  long  ago." 

The  boys  stared. 

"Nat  Cringle!" 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  97 

"That's  me,  and  I  wish  your  honours  had  spoken  to 
me  about  the  ship  before. " 

"  Whatever  are  you  talking  about  ?  "  said  Hardy  Gird- 
wood. 

"The  *  Albatross,'  if  you  please,  and  few  people  could 
tell  you  more  about  it  than  Nat  Cringle. " 

"I  can't  hear  you  disparage  our  own  ship,  Nat,"  said 
Jack;  " it  isn't  proper,  you  know." 

"What  isn't  proper?  Which  isn't  proper,  and  why 
not?" 

* '  Because  she  is  between  us  and  Davy  Jones's  locker. " 

"That's  it,"  rejoined  the  sailor,  quickly;  "that's  just 
it  But  how  long  will  she  keep  us  so  ?  That's  the  rub. 
Why,  it's  a  downright  regular  conjuring  trick  to  keep  her 
afloat." 

"Well,  Cringle,"  said  Harry  Girdwood,  "I  never  heard 
a  man  speak  so  yet  of  a  ship  he  had  just  taken  service  in. " 

"Bah,  they  pay  me  well  for  that." 

"But  payment  could  not  recompense  you  for  risking 
your  life,"  said  Harry  Girdwood. 

"Couldn't  it,  though?"  exclaimed  Nat  Cringle.  "And 
why  not,  pray?  Have  I  not  often  risked  my  life  for 
less  ? " 

' '  Ever  served  ? "  asked  Jack. 

"Of  course  I  have,"  said  Nat  Cringle.  "Seen  lots  of 
service  on  different  stations  when  I  was  in  the  royal 
navy.  I  never  got  a  scratch,  and  I've  been  in  some  hot 
jobs  too ;  I've  been  in  a  bit  of  weather,  too,  now  and 
again.  But  when  the  bullets  were  thick  as  hail,  and  the 
men  dropped  around  me  like  rotten  sheep,  I  never  got  a 
scratch.  I've  been  in  three  wrecks.  Once  I  was  the 
only  hand  saved.  I  tell  you  I  can't  come  to  harm,  or 
else  you  wouldn't  find  me  here,  'cause  my  bent  ain't  by 
no  means  suicidal." 

"Do  you  really  mean,  Cringle,"  said  Jack,  "that  you 
think  the  '  Albatross '  isn't  seaworthy  ?  " 

"Bah!" 

An  expression  of  utter  contempt  passed  over  the  sailor's 
face  as  he  said  this. 

"Seaworthy  ?  Why,  there's  not  a  sound  plank  in  her. 
It's  a  coffin-ship." 

"A  what!" 

"A  coffin-ship.  Nothing  more  nor  less,"  said  Nat 
7 


98  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

Cringle  :  "and  old  Murray's  got  a  new  line  on  that'll  suit 
his  book  right  enough — old  Murray  the  wholesale  under- 
taker, as  we  used  to  call  him." 

' '  But  why  on  earth  the  wholesale  undertaker  ?  "  asked 
Jack. 

"Because  he's  buried  such  lots  of  people — more  than 
any  six  undertakers  have  the  chance  of  doing  in  their 
lifetime,  however  brisk  a  trade  they  may  drive." 

"Ahem  !  " 

"I  suppose  you  didn't  know  about  all  this?" 

"No." 

"It  looked  oddish  that  you  should  join  such  a  ship," 
eaid  Nat  Cringle  ;  "but  I  supposed  that  there  was  some 
sort  of  a  reason  for  it.  Howsomever,  I  recommend  you 
to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  on  me." 

"What  for?" 

"When  she  settles." 

' '  You  don't  think  really  that  the  '  Albatross  '  is  in  im- 
mediate danger  ?  " 

"Difficult  to  say  that.  But  you  just  look  how  she  is 
plugged  up  with  goods.  Low  freight,  you  know.  See 
how  low  she  is  in  the  water,  and  see  the  way  she 
labours  along.  Why,  she  has  weight  enough  of  cargo  to 
founder  a  good  ship,  let  alone  such  a  coffin-ship  as  this." 

Jack  and  Harry  were  more  than  half  convinced  by  his 
earnest  manner. 

"Does  she  make  much  water?  " 

"Does  she  not!"  exclaimed  Nat  Cringle;  "hark  at 
the  pumps  working  incessantly.  I  have  been  pumping 
this  hour  or  more.  But  you  only  wait  until  we  get  a 
little  more  weather,  and  then  you'll  see.  You  go  and 
help  work  at  the  pumps,  and  see  how  little  you  can  do 
to " 

"Work  at  the  pumps  ?"  repeated  a  voice,  close  by. 

It  was  Mr.  Figgins,  the  Cockney  orphan,  who  had 
again  ventured  on  deck. 

"Yes." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  pray,  by  working  at  the  pumps  ?  " 

Young  Jack  winked  at  the  sailor  and  Harry. 

"They  are  going  to  give  the  crew  and  passengers 
a  dance,"  said  he,  "and  Nat  Cringle  has  been  a  shoe- 
maker— he  has  to  repair  the  dancing  shoes — the  pumps, 
you  see." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  99 

" Dear  me,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Figgins,  in  surprise,  "how 
very  singular  the  manners  and  customs  of  life  at  sea  are." 

"  Very." 

"You'll  join  in  the  merry  dance,  I  suppose?"  said 
Jack. 

"No  ;  not  at  present.  I  thought  I  was  getting  better  ; 
but  when  the  ship  rocks,  I  really  feel  the  old  feeling 
coming  on." 

"You're  not  well  yet?  " 

"  No,  I  have  not  been  well  ever  since  I  came  on  board," 
replied  the  orphan,  with  a  faint  air  of  embarrassment. 

"Still  sick  ?" 

"Oh,  dear  no." 

"  I  thought  not.  You  are  too  much  of  a  Jack  tar  for 
that,  now." 

"Rather!" 

Mr.  Figgins  had  got  his  notions  of  an  ideal  sailor  from 
Mr.  T.  P.  Cooke,  and  other  stage  mariners,  and  as  he 
said  "Rather!"  he  essayed  to  give  that  well-known 
hitch  to  his  trousers. 

But  the  effort  or  jerk,  and  a  heavy  roll  of  the  ship, 
caused  a  return  of  those  unpleasant  symptoms  which  the 
orphan  was  subject  to. 

So  he  clapped  his  hand  to  his  mouth,  and  beat  a  pre- 
cipitate retreat  to  the  ship's  side. 

"Nat  Cringle,"  said  young  Jack,  seriously,  "I  hope 
that  you  exaggerate  the  dangers  of  this  ship." 

"  Don't  you  hope  any  thing  of  the  kind,  young  gentle- 
man," said  Nat  Cringle,  "or  you'll  be  disappointed.  I 
ain't  exaggerated  nothing.  The  '  Albatross  '  is  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  coffin  ship,  and  the  very  next  storm 
that  comes  on,  down  she  goes." 

Jack  and  Harry  looked  grave. 

They  were  no  cowards. 

Those  of  our  readers  who  have  followed  them  through 
their  varied  adventures,  need  no  assertion  to  this  effect. 

"If  the  'Albatross'  foundered  in  the  mid-ocean,  you 
would  have  but  a  poor  chance  of  saving  your  life." 

"Who  spoke  of  mid-ocean?"  said  Nat  Cringle;  "I 
didn't  for  one." 

"But " 

"  Don't  you  jump  at  no  rash  conclusions,  young  gentle- 
man. The  '  Albatross  '  will  founder,  but  not  in  mid-ocean, 


I  oo        YOUNG  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

as  long  as  I  have  half  a  chance  of  handling  the  helm. 
Let  her  have  a  fair  run  for  the  Spanish  coast. ''' 
* '  I  see." 

"What  I  should  like  more  than  any  thing  else  would 
«  » 

"What?" 

The  honest  tar  looked  anxiously  around  him. 

"Just  to  run  her  into  port,  and  get  her  condemned." 

"By  whom?" 

"British  consul  and  Lloyd's  people." 

"What  for?" 

"Just  to  pay  the  warmints  out  who  traffic  in  honest 
men's  lives.  Don't  you  see,  they'd  lose  their  insurance 
money — aye,  and  they'd  lose  their  freight  too." 

"What  a  noble  notion,"  ejaculated  Jack. 

"Yes,  rather  tidy,  ain't  it?"  added  the  sailor.  "But 
to  do  this  proper,  we  want  one  thing." 

"What?" 

"To  square  the  skipper." 

"Is  it  to  be  done?" 

"Can't  say." 

"  I  should  think  that  he's  in  with  the  owner  and  the 
other  villains,"  suggested  Harry  Gird  wood. 

"That's  just  what  I  should  like  to  know,"  said  Nat 
Cringle,  thoughtfully;  "Cap'n  Deering  ain't  no  fool,  he 
ain't.  He  knows  his  dooty — no  man  better — every  rope 
in  the  ship,  and  every  plank — aye,  and  what's  more,  he 
warn't  on  board  six  hours  before  he  knew  every  man  Jack 
of  us  aboard  by  our  names.  So  I  can't  make  out  why 
he  should  take  sarvice  in  sich  a  rotten  old  hull,  unless 
there  was  some  particular  reasons  for  it,  that  no  one 
knows  about." 

"  He  didn't  know  any  thing  about  it,"  said  Jack,  pos- 
itively. 

Nat  Cringle  eyed  the  speaker  sharply. 

"Why?" 

"Because  he  told  me  that  he  had  been  sent  for  express 
to  town,  when  it  was  known  that  Captain  Robinson  was 
too  ill  to  go  out. " 

"Too  ill?" 

"Yes." 

Nat  Cringle  burst  out  into  a  boisterious  laugh. 

"What's  that  for?" 


ffIS  BOY  T/JVXAA.  101 

"  Cap'n  Robinson   was  about  as  ill  as  I  am  this  'ere 

blessed  moment,"  he  answered,  with  an  oath.  "Cap'n 
Robinson  values  his  precious  skin  too  much  to  go  afloat 
in  such  a  ship  as  the  '  Albatross. ' " 

"  But  surely  he  meant  to  go." 

"  Never." 

The  boys  were  literally  staggered  at  this. 

"  Nat,"  said  Jack,  "my  father's  rich,  and  the  best  man 
that  ever  drew  breath.  He  will  take  in  hand  this  rascal 
Murray,  and  punish  him." 

"Bless  you,  your  honour,"  ejaculated  the  tar,  quite 
moved  ;  "  you're  the  right  sort,  you  are." 

"  But  I  shall  have  to  get  the  chance  to  do  this  act  of 
justice, "  said  young  Jack. 

"It'll  come." 

"  But  if  the  ship  should  sink  ?  "  said  Jack. 

"Look  here,  your  honour,"  said  Nat  Cringle;  "the 
'Albatross  '  will  go  down,  that's  a  mortal  sartinty  ;  but 
you  stick  close  by  me,  whenever  she's  in  trouble,  and 
we'll  sink  or  swim  together.  And  I  for  one  don't  mean 
sinking. " 

"  Give  us  your  hand  upon  that,"  said  Harry  Girdwood. 

"Here  it  is,"  said  the  honest  tar,  thrusting  out  a  huge 
horny  palm,  "  and  here's  the  other  for  you,  Master  Jack, 
nearest  the  'art,  you  know.  But  mum  !  here  comes  the 

second  mate,  d d  ugly  swab,  betwixt  you  and  me  and 

the  bedpost  1 " 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    YOUTHFUL    SWELL    NEXT  TO   JACK*S  CABIN — THE  TALE  OF  A 

CHEQUE-BOOK — THE  HOLE  IN  THE  PANEL A  SHINE  ON  DECK  ! — • 

THE   THREATENED    MUTINY — JUST  IN  TIME. 

THE  youthful  swell  Murray  was  so  dissatisfied  with  his 
cabin  that  he  removed  to  one  with  more  comforts,  and 
that  one  happened  by  chance  to  be  next  to  our  friend  young 
Jack. 

' '  Chivey,"  said  the  master. 

' '  Sir, "  said  the  man. 

"Give  me  a  soda." 

"And  b.,  sir?" 


1 02  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  ANL, 

"Of  course  !  " 

"It's  all  very  well  to  say  of  course,  sir,"  said  Mr. 
Chivey  ;  "  but  the  fact  is  the  steward  won't  give  us  much 
more  tick." 

"  The  steward's  a  puppy,  Chivey,"  said  Herbert  Murray ; 
"he  knows  that  I  am  the  owner's  son  ;  tell  him  I  must 
be  attended  to. " 

"Very  good." 

"  And  tell  him  if  he  makes  any  bones  about  it,  I'll  get 
him  discharged  from  the  ship,  as  safe  as  my  name's 
Herbert  Murray." 

"Very  good,  sir." 

Chivey  disappeared,  and  young  Murray  waited  impa- 
tiently for  his  return. 

"I'm  always  thirsty,"  he  muttered;  " should  like  to 
have  S.  and  B.  laid  on  by  a  sort  of  New  River  Company." 

A  merry  voice  in  the  adjoining  cabin  broke  in  upon  his 
reverie  with  a  snatch  of  a  song 

"  My  name  d'ye  see's  Tom   Tough, 
And  I've  seen  a  deal  of  sarvice." 

"  Blow  his  sarvice,  and  him  too,"  muttered  Mr.  Murray 
Junior.  "That's  that  beast  of  a  Jack  Harkaway,  I 
know." 

"That's  him,  sir." 

"Hullo  !" 

The  master  turned  round,  and  there  stood  the  man  at 
the  door. 

' '  What  are  you  spying  upon  me"  for,  Chivey  ?  "  he  said. 

"  Spying  ain't  in  my  line,  sir,"  retorted  the  tiger.  "  I 
was  only  a-watchin'  of  you." 

' '  The  same  thing. " 

"Not  quite." 

"  Silence  !     You  hear  Harkaway  in  the  next  cabin  ?  ** 

"Oh,  I  hear,  sir." 

And  well  he  might,  for  young  Jack  was  swelling  ou* 
his  voice. 

"  And  if  more  you  would  be  knowin', 
I  have  sailed  with  bold  Boscawen." 

"  He's  getting  on  a  nautical  chant,"  said  Mr.  Chivey, 
"  to  make  hisself  believe  that  he  don't  feel  queer." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  103 

"  I've  watched  him,"  groaned  young  Murray,  "and  I 
know  he  doesn't ;  he  was  rollicking  about  all  over  the 
ship,  when  I  was  half  dead  with  sea-sickness,  hang 
him." 

"Don't  you  get  impatient,  sir,"  said  the  tiger, "and 
I  can  put  you  up  to  a  wrinkle." 

"  What  is  it  ?  " 

"Something  extra  double  artful,  sir.     O.  T.  Q." 

"Out  with  it  ;  you  know  how  I  hate  beating  about  the 
bush  !  "  exclaimed  Herbert  Murray  impatiently. 

"Keep  your  'air  on,  sir,  I  beg,"  said  the  tiger,  "and 
I'll  tell  you  all  about  it ;  you  know  this  ship  is  made  up 
of  sliding  boards." 

He  crept  up  to  the  end  of  the  cabin,  and  gently  slid 
back  a  small  trap. 

At  the  same  time  he  blew  out  the  lamp,  which  was 
burning  upon  the  table,  so  that  they  were  in  total  dark- 
ness. 

Through  the  hole  they  could  see  all  that  was  passing. 

There  was  young  Jack  seated  at  a  desk  in  which  were 
displayed  a  number  of  letters  and  papers  on  which  he  was 
engaged. 

At  the  moment  that  the  two  spies,  for  they  were  nothing 
less,  peeped  through,  Harry  Girdwood  was  entering  the 
cabin. 

And  now  they  could  not  only  see,  but  they  could  hear 
every  word  that  was  uttered,  as  distinctly  as  if  they  had 
been  in  the  cabin  with  the  speakers. 

"Jack." 

"What  now?"  said  young  Harkaway,  looking  up. 

"  I've  been  thinking  over  what  Nat  Cringle  said." 

"  So  have  I ;  the  danger  we  are  now  in  is  great,  for  a 
heavy  storm  might  come  upon  us  at  any  time." 

"Now  supposing  we  got  ashore  off  the  coast  yonder." 

Here  Herbert  Murray  looked  nervously  round  at  the 
tiger,  who  pressed  his  master's  arm  warningly. 

"Well." 

"I  want  to  see  Spain,"  continued  Jack;  "the  land  of 
Don  Quixote  and  Sancho  Panza  and  Gil  Bias  and  Don 
Juan  and  Figaro  and  Almaviva,  and  such  a  lot  more 
people  we  are  all  acquainted  with  in  books  and  plays." 

"That's  all  very  well,  Jack,  but  we  are  short  ef 
money." 


1 04  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARjSA  WA  V  AJVL. 

"  No,  the  governor  gave  m«  a  cheque-book,  and  I  have 

only  to  fill  in  the  cheques  for  any  amount  I  like,  and  get 
them  cashed  through  any  banker  in  any  civilised  city.  We 
would  have  to  wait  while  they  authenticated  the  cheques, 
and  there's  tin  for  you  to  any  reasonable  amount." 

"As  he  spoke,  he  flourished  a  cheque-book  in  his  hand. 

"  You  must  keep  that  in  your  pocket  always." 

"I  do." 

"Wrap  it  in  an  oil  skin,  and  fasten  it  about  your  body, 
for  if  any  accident  happened " 

"And  we  had  to  swim  for  it?  " 

"Yes." 

"It  would  be  safe  enough,  and  as  for  swimming  for 
It,  why " 

At  this  juncture  a  hoarse  voice  was  heard  giving  orders 
on  deck,  and  it  stopped  their  talk. 

"All  hands  to  the  pumps  !  " 

"Hark  1" 

"I  hear." 

"Any  thing  worse  than  usual,  I  wonder?  "  said  Harry. 

Murmurs  were  heard  on  deck  so  loud  that  the  grumbling 
tones  reached  them  distinctly. 

Harry  Girdwood  ran  up  the  cabin  stairs  to  see  what  was 
going  forward. 

"  The  men  are  grumbling,"  said  he,  turning  round 
towards  Jack. 

"What  at ?" 

"This  unceasing  working  at  the  pumps.  They  get  no 
rest." 

"  All  hands  pump  ship  !  "  sang  out  the  second  mate. 

A  muttered  menace  was  heard  to  come  from  one  of  the 
crew. 

This  was  the  signal  for  a  low  growl — low,  but  general. 

And,  as  it  went  on,  it  seemed  to  gather  force  like  a 
distant  storm.  « 

"Jack." 

"Yes,  Harry. " 

"  It  is  getting  serious.  Get  your  pistols  and  let  us  go 
up  on  deck.  The  mate  may  want  assistance. " 

"I'm  with  you,"  said  Jack. 

He  dropped  his  cheque-book  on  to  the  desk,  and  stick- 
ing his  pistols  into  his  belt,  up  he  ran. 

Matters  were  growing  serious  on  deck. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  105 

The  wind  had  freshened  and  the  glass  fell  rapidly,  de- 
noting that  some  dirty  weather  was  to  be  expected. 

A  heavy  swell  had  set  the  ' '  Albatross  "  rolling,  and 
the  water  was  now  gaining  fast  upon  her. 

The  gale,  which  had  been  gradually  working  its  way 
up  to  them,  caught  the  ship  at  last  with  greater  sudden- 
ness than  they  could  reasonably  have  expected. 

But  Captain  Deering  was  prompt  to  meet  the  emergency. 

The  upper  fore  and  main  top-sails  were  reefed. 

The  mizzen  sail  was  furled. 

The  rain  came  down  in  buckets,  and  the  men  were 
working  deep  in  water  upon  deck. 

The  men  had  deputed  a  spokesman  to  go  to  the  skipper 
to  ask  for  an  extra  allowance  of  grog. 

And,  surely,  if  any  circumstances  could  warrant  such 
a  license,  this  was  the  opportunity  to  grant  it 

But  the  captain  being  busily  occupied,  the  men  referred 
their  request  to  the  mate,  a  surly,  and  ill-natured  fellow, 
who  refused  it  point  blank. 

The  wind  increased,  and  as  the  heavy  cross  sea  caught 
her,  the  ship  laboured  and  creaked,  and  strained  contin- 
ually, causing  Nat  Cringle  to  sing  out,  ironically,  from 
time  to  time — 

' '  There's  music  for  you,  lads  1 " 

And  as  the  wind  continued,  the  ship  lurched  and  rolled 
fearfully. 

Now  and  again  a  heavier  sea  than  usual  would  break 
clean  over  the  deck,  washing  every  thing  before  it,  and 
carrying  the  men  away  from  the  pumps  to  land  them  in 
the  lee  scuppers  all  in  a  heap,  bruised  and  marked  about 
dreadfully. 

When  young  Jack  and  his  comrade,  Harry,  got  on  deck, 
the  crew  were  assembled  all  in  a  group  talking  to  the 
second  mate,  and  the  conversation  had  grown  remarkably 
warm. 

*'  We've  been  up  to  our  waists  in  water,  Mr.  Mackenzie," 
said  the  spokesman,  "and  we  think  you  really  ought  to 
serve  us  out  an  extra  allowance." 

"I'm  of  a  different  way  of  thinking,"  replied  the  mate, 
who  was  a  temperance  man  ;  **  and  I'll  just  do  nae  such 
thing." 

The  men  murmured. 

"  Let  us  see  the  captain,"  said 


Io6  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Aye,  aye,  the  captain." 

"Yes,  yes,"  called  a  third. 

"  Ye'll  do  nae  such  thing,"  said  the  mate,  obstinately. 
"  Captain  Deering  has  deputed  me  to  see  you,  and " 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  stop  the  grog,  I  won't  go  to  the 
pumps,  for  one — that's  flat,"  replied  the  man. 

"Ye  mutinous  thief !  "  roared  the  mate.  "  I'll  clap  ye 
in  irons  in  no  time." 

"  Ye'd  belter  not  try  it,  Sandy,"  said  the  sailor, 
threateningly. 

"  Drop  him  overboard,"  suggested  one  of  the  men. 

Now  whether  this  suggestion  would  have  been  acted 
upon,  it  is  not  easy  to  say. 

Before  it  could  be  put  to  the  test,  young  Jack  and 
Harry  Girdwood  appeared  on  deck,  and  quickly  as  quietly 
they  ranged  themselves  beside  Mackenzie  the  mate. 

"Come,  come,  my  men,"  said  Jack,  showing  his  pistols, 
"  stand  back,  no  mutineeringhere." 

"We  don't  want  to  mutiny,  Master  Jack :  we've  only 
made  a  very  reasonable  request." 

'Aye,  aye,"  said  Jack.      "  What  is  it,  my  men  ?  " 

'Give  us  some  rum." 

'Not  a  drop,"  cried  Mackenzie  vehemently. 

*  Down  with  him  !  "  cried  the  sailors. 
'  Stand  back,  men  !  "  cried  Jack. 

It  was  a  very  ticklish  moment. 

"I  won't  countenance  any  thing  like  mutiny  or  insub- 
ordination," said  Jack,  "but  put  your  request  into  more 
respectful  language,  and  Mr.  Mackenzie  will,  I  am  sure, 
listen  to  you,  if  it  is  reasonable." 

"  You're  making  sure  before  your  time,  then,"  said  the 
mate,  ungraciously. 

"Sir?" 

"Did  you  no  hear  what  I  said?  Ye've  no  right  to 
promise  any  thing  in  my  name.  Ye're  just  a  wee  bit  over 
fast,  and  it  ill  becomes  ye." 

"  Come,  come,  Mr.  Mackenzie,  don't  be  vexed  with 
me,"  said  Jack,  good-naturedly.  "I  spoke  only  for  the 
good  of  the  ship." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  boy." 

"Will  you  not  let  the  men  have  some  grog,  sir?" 

"No  I"  cried  the  Scotch  mate,  furiously;  "and  if 
you " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  107 

"Stop,  stop,  sir,"  said  young  Jack,  " you've  no  need 
to  threaten  me.  I  came  to  assist  you " 

"  Dom  yere  impudence,"  cried  Mackenzie. 

"But  since  you  don't  want  it " 

"Nor  you  either.  Go  forward,  you  young  imp,  ye — 
ye " 

"Save  your  breath  to  cool  your  porridge,  sir,"  said 
young  Jack,  coolly.  "Stay  here,  Harry,  to  see  that  Mr. 
Mackenzie  doesn't  get  into  any  trouble  while  I  step  aft 
and  talk  to  Captain  Deering. " 

The  mate  raged. 

However,  Jack  did  not  wait  to  hear  his  retort. 

Young  Jack  went  straight  up  to  the  skipper  at  once. 

"Captain  Deering,  may  I  have  one  word  with  you, 
please  ? " 

"Just  one,  Mr.  Harkaway,"  returned  the  skipper, 
"only  be  quick  about  it,  if  you  please." 

At  this  moment  a  deep,  threatening  growl  was  heard 
from  the  men  on  deck. 

After  a  pause,  the  captain  fiercely  asked — 

"Well,  what  is  all  this  fuss  about ? " 

"  The  men  have  been  working  like  steam-engines  hour 
after  hour,  sir,  knee  deep  in  water,  and  not  a  man,  sir, 
amongst  them  has  a  dry  thread  on  him.  They  want 
some  rum,"  responded  young  Jack. 

"Is  that  all?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Let  them  have  it  at  once — at  once.     Do  you  hear  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Off  with  you." 

"Excuse  me,  captain,  they  have  asked  Mr.  Mackenzie 
already  and  he  refused. " 

"Oh." 

"Well,  I  wouldn't  ask  after  that,  but  they  are  grum- 
bling and  look  precious  ugly,  but  he  holds  out,  so  that  I 
really  fear  some  harm  may  come  to  him." 

"He's  a  fool,"  muttered  the  captain. 

And  then  he  gave  orders  to  the  steward  to  serve  out  a 
grog  all  round. 

Meanwhile,  Harry  Girdwood  was  boldly  confronting 
the  mutineers,  who,  awed  by  his  pistols,  hung  back, 
hardly  daring  to  commit  the  violence  they  had  it  in  their 
minds  to  do.  Oaths  and  curses  were  hurled  at  the  head 


1 08  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

of  the  mate,  but  they  all  admired  the  boy's  pluck,  though 
he  stood  in  their  way. 

It  is  doubtful,  though,  whether  he  would  have  been 
able  to  keep  them  at  bay  much  longer,  had  not  young 
Jack  returned  with  the  welcome  news  that  they  were  to 
have  the  rum. 

A  cheer  greeted  this  announcement,  and  then  the 
steward  made  his  appearance. 

"  I  hope,  Mr.  Mackenzie,"  said  Jack,  stepping  up  to  the 
mate,  "  that  you'll  not  take  offence  at  what  I've  done." 

"If  ye  think  to  palaver  me  over,"  said  Mackenzie,  sul- 
lenly, "ye're  mistaken.  Ye  think  to  mak'  a  fule  o'  me 
befoor  the  crew.  Weel,  I  shall  yet  ha'  the  opportunity  o' 
showing  ye  that  it's  no  the  best  day's  wark  o'  yer  life  to 
mak  a  fule  o'  Donald  Mackenzie." 

"All  hands  pump  ship  !  "  sang  out  Captain  Deering,  as 
soon  as  the  men  had  swallowed  their  rum. 

"Aye,  aye,  sir." 

The  men  flew  to  work  again  with  alacrity  at  this. 

"Now,  Mr.  Mackenzie,"  called  the  captain,  "tumble 
about,  please — look  lively." 

The  Scotch  mate  growled  something  inaudible,  and 
moved  away. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

RASTER  AND  MAN — THE  POSITIONS  REVERSED — TIGER  CHIVEY 
"PLAYS   ARTFUL,"   AND  HIS   MASTER   MAKES   A  VERY   FALSE 

MOVE THE  FORGED  CHEQUES  AND  THE  SLIDING  TRAP  IN  THE 

CABIN  PANEL. 

MURRAY  and  Chivey  had  remained  all  this  time  in  their 
cabin. 

"  That  Harkaway  cove  has  left  his  cheque-book  behind 
him,"  said  Chivey. 

"What  then?" 

"Why,  by  just  putting  my  arm  through  this  little  'ole 
I  can  get  at  it." 

"  Chivey,  I  forbid  you  to  do  any  thing  of  the  sort." 

The  tiger  had  dived  his  arm  through  the  hole  in  the 

fanelling,  and  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  he  held  young 
ack's  cheque-book  under  his  master's  nose. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  log 

"  But  I  have  done  it,  sir  ;  lt»ok  here,"  cried  Chivey. 

"Chivey,  this  won't  do  for  me." 

"  Oh,  it  will  for  me,  though.  Why,  with  just  one  little 
lark  with  the  cheque-book,  you  could  pepper  him  nicely 
for  all  that  precious  sewing  up  he  give  you  ashore." 

"I  shouldn't  object  to  do  that,"  returned  Herbert 
Murray,  "  but  I  would  do  any  thing " 

Chivey  interrupted  his  master  with  a  cry  of  delight  and 
amazement. 

"My  hi,  and  Elizabeth  Martin!  What  a  slap-up 
lark  !  " 

"What  is  it?" 

"Look  here  1" 

He  pushed  the  open  cheque-book  under  young  Murray's 
eyes,  and  there  was  a  cheque  already  written  and  signed 
by  Jack  for  twenty  pounds. 

Jack  had  got  it  ready  for  some  purpose  or  other  at  the 
very  moment  that  he  had  been  called  up  on  deck  by  the 
mutinous  demonstrations  of  the  crew. 

"It  is  strange  why  he  should  leave  the  cheque  in  the 
book. " 

"Perhaps  it  was  meant  for  your  own  especial  benefit, 
sir." 

Mr.  Chivey  cocked  his  head  on  one  side  in  his  own 
peculiar  fashion. 

' '  Whatever  do  you  mean  by  that,  Chivey  ?  "  asked  the 
master. 

"Only  this,  sir — if  I  could  only  write  like  you,  I'd  fill 
up  every  blessed  cheque  in  the  book  and  make  presents 
of ''em  to  all  the  orspitals  and  charities  and  such." 

Herbert  Murray's  eyes  flashed  again  at  this. 

"By  jingo!  that  would  be  a  lark,  and  serve  young 
Harkaway  out." 

"Rather!" 

The  tiger  saw  that  he  had  got  his  weak  and  vacillating 
master  upon  the  right  tack,  and  he  saw  also  that  it 
would  not  do  to  press  the  matter  unduly. 

"  Wouldn't  that  ugly  young  rascal  stare  when  he  found 
out  that  he  had  subscribed  to  a  charity — or  charities— 
without  knowing  it  ? " 

"Would  he  not?"  exclaimed  Chivey;  "only  you 
couldn't  imitate  the  signature  near  enough  to  match  with 
that" 


HO  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"You  never  made  a  greater  mistake  in  your  life,  Chivey, 
than  to  suppose  that." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say,  sir,  that  you  really  could  ? " 
exclaimed  the  tiger,  with  a  look  that  combined  incredulity 
and  admiration. 

Chivey  knew  that  weak-headed  young  master  of  his 
well. 

No  one  better. 

He  could  do  more  with  Herbert  Murray  with  a  mere  look 
than  could  the  latter's  father  accomplish  by  dint  of  praises 
and  reproaches,  coaxing  and  scolding,  severity  and 
leniency  combined. 

And  the  singularity  of  the  affair  was  that  Chivey  really 
commanded  while  he  appeared  to  obey. 

Murray  snatched  up  a  pen,  and  wrote  in  imitation  of 
Jack's  signature. 

Chivey  gave  his  master  an  admiring  glance. 

"Well,  there!"  he  exclaimed,  turning  his  eyes  up- 
wards and  seeming  to  address  the  roof  of  the  cabin,  "if 
he  ain't  just  about  the  tallest  thing  out  in  fly  coves,  I  wish 
I  may  die  an  old  maid  !  " 

"Oh,  there's  nothing  very  wonderful  in  that,  Chivey," 
said  his  master,  with  an  off-hand  air. 

"Ain't  there  ?  Why,  nobody  could  tell  but  what  it  was 
young  Harkaway's  writing.  Have  a  cheque  out  of  his 
book,  sir ;  you  do  imitate  him  so  well. " 

"Yes,  it  ain't  bad,  is  it?"  said  Herbert,  taking  up  the 
pen  again,  and  involuntarily  copying  the  signature  of 
young  Jack  Harkaway,  at  the  foot  of  a  blank  cheque  and 
then  of  a  second. 

The  tiger  looked  on  greatly  interested. 

' '  Beautiful !  "  ejaculated  Chivey,  ' '  lovely.  Dot  de  hi, 
sir ! " 

"Where?" 

"In  junior." 

' '  It  doesn't  matter !  " 

"Oh,  dot  his  hi ;  he  dotted  yours  pretty  smartly  for 
you,  didn't  he — ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  " 

This  was  a  mistake. 

"What  the  devil  do  you  mean  by  that,  you  impudent 
scoundrel  ?  "  exclaimed  Herbert  Murray ;  for  this  was  a 
very  sore  topic  to  joke  upon. 

Chivey,  with  his  wonted  quickness,  saw  his  error. 


HIS  BO  Y  TINKER.  Ill 

But  he  had  not  been  able  to  resist  the  joke. 

"Beg  pardon,  sir!"  he  said,  saluting  his  master,  and 
pulling  a  face  as  grave  as  a  mute's,  "couldn't  help  it,  sir 
— no  offence." 

"Don't  you  learn  to  be  too  familiar,  Chivey,  or  I'll 
give  you  the  bag  !  You  mustn't  learn  to  forget  your 
place,  because  I'm  civil  to  you." 

"No,  sir!  " 

"You'll  just  about  spoil  yourself  if  you  do,  let  me  tell 
you.  Now  you  may  not  earn  much  now " 

"  It  isn't  to  say  a  downright  fortune,  sir." 

"  No,  perhaps  not — but  I  shall  have  a  pot  of  tin  one  of 
these  days,  and  it  will  be  a  fortune  to  you,  if  you  know 
how  to  behave  yourself. " 

"Thankee,  sir,"  responded  the  tiger.  "  I  don't  want  a 
fortune,  so  long  as  you  keep  me  on." 

"Very  well  then.     It  entirely  depends  on  yourself." 

"Yes,  sir." 


Chivey  looked  wistfully  at  those  two  signed  cheques. 

And  as  he  looked,  his  speculative  mind  shot  ahead  into 
the  future. 

He  fancied  he  saw  in  those  two  strips  of  paper  the 
means  of  making  himself  safe — of  putting  his  position 
beyond  the  mere  caprice  of  his  shifty  young  master. 

But  how  ? 

This  we  shall  see. 

Meanwhile  it  may  be  well  to  remark  that  Chivey,  with 
all  his  shrewdness,  had  yet  to  learn  that  to  speculate  upon 
the  remote  future  was  rash,  seeing  that  if  the  weather  did 
not  speedily  improve,  the  "Albatross"  was  likely  to 
prove  the  coffin  for  one  and  all  on  board — for  passengers 
as  well  as  crew. 

"Just  listen,  sir,  what  a  row  they  are  making  over- 
head. " 

"That's  Jack  Harkaway's  voice.  He's  coming  down, 
Chivey."  exclaimed  his  master,  anxiously;  "put  back 
the  cheque-book." 

"Yes,  sir." 

The  tiger  obeyed. 

And  in  obeying,  somehow  or  another,  the  two  signed 
cheques  found  their  way  into  Chivey's  pocket 


1 13  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

'Push  to  the  trap." 
'It's  down,  sir — close  as  wax." 
'  I  hope  they  won't  see  it  from  the  other  side." 
'Never  a  bit,  sir." 

'Then  up  on  deck,   and  see   what  all  this  precious 
hubbub  is  about,  Chivey." 
"Yes,  sir." 

The  tiger  turned  upon  the  cabin  steps,  and  gave  his 
master  a  parting  glance  of  admiration. 
And  he  disappeared  up  the  steps  on  deck. 
Young  Murray  fully   believed  in  Chivey's  adulation, 
and  accepted  it  as  justifiable  homage. 
Silly  young  fool ! 

He  had  just  added  forgery  to  his  varied  and  unenviable 
accomplishments. 

Forgery  has  an  ugly  sound ;  yet  forgery  it  was. 
Moreover,  this  crafty,  cunning  young  man  about  town 
had  left  in  the  possession  of  his  own  wicked  servant  the 
proofs  of  his  crime  1 


CHAPTER  XXL 

LISTENERS  HEAR  BAD  NEWS  OCCASIONALLY. 

"  I  SAY,  Jack, "  exclaimed  Harry  Girdwood,  when  they 
returned  to  their  cabin,  "that's  rather  careless  of  you 
leaving  your  cheque-book  out." 

' '  No  fear  ;  no  one  came  down  here,  they  had  too  much 
to  do  on  deck." 

"True,"  answered  cautious  Harry,  "but  you  can't  be 
too  careful  with  your  cheque-book.' 

"True,  but  my  own  opinion  is,  that  unless  we  look 
remarkably  lively,  the  cheque-book  won't  be  of  any  par- 
ticular use  to  any  of  us." 

"I  don't  think  it  is  as  bad  as  that,"  replied  Harry. 

"I  do  ;  the  rotten  old  tub  is  as  nearly  water-logged  as 
possible.  Let  a  few  more  seas  break  over  her  and  down 
she'll  go,  as  sure  as  my  name's  Jack  ! " 

****** 

At  this  moment  Chivey  tottered  down  the  companion- 
ladder  to  his  master. 


HIS  BO  Y  TINKER.  1 13 

His  cheeks  were  ashy  pale,  and  he  had  not  a  word  to 
say  for  himself ;  for  he  absolutely  quaked  for  fear. 

But  his  master  did  not  want  to  learn  the  news  from 
Chivey. 

He  was  stretched  at  full  length  in  his  berth,  with  his 
ear  close  to  the  panel,  and  he  could  hear  every  word  of 
the  conversation  going  forward  between  Jack  Harkaway, 
junior,  and  his  comrade,  Harry. 

"  Hush,  listen  !  "  he  whispered  warningly  to  Chivey. 

The  tiger  obeyed. 

And  this  is  what  they  both  overheard  together. 

"I  mean  to  put  on  my  cork  clothing,"  said  Jack ;  "get 
yours  ready  too,  Harry,  at  once." 

"Very  good." 

"And  meanwhile,  in  case  of  accidents,  I  mean  to 
scribble  out  a  little  information  and  stick  the  paper  into 
a  corked  and  sealed  bottle. " 

"  What's  the  good  of  that  ?  " 

•' Lots,"  replied  Jack  ;  "if  we  go  down  to  Davy  Jones, 
it  will  be  saying  good-bye  to  all  our  friends  at  home,  and 
it  will  show  up  that  murderous  old  thief,  Murray,  to  the 
world. " 

"But  Mr.  Murray's  own  son  is  on  board." 

"Yes." 

"Well,  then,  nobody  will  believe  that  he  sent  his  own 
flesh  and  blood  afloat  in  a  coffin  ship." 

"But  he  didn't  know  that  his  son  was  here.  Accord- 
ing to  Captain  Deering's  own  showing,  the  young  fellow 
took  his  passage,  with  his  servant,  under  assumed  names, 
so  as  to  dodge  his  father.  But  I'm  sorry  for  the  son," 
said  Jack,  "  for  he's  very  little  chance  of  saving  himself, 
and,  unless  the  wind  drops,  the  *  Albatross'  will  never 
float  twelve  hours  more  I " 


"Chivey!" 

Herbert  Murray's  voice  was  hoarse  with  terror. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Bring  me    something  to  drink — some    brandy  and 
water. " 

"I  ain't  got  time,"  replied  his  servant ;  "  I've  got  to 
look  after  myself  now,  and  put  on  my  lifebelt,  for  I  mean 
to  have  a  good  hard  try  for  it," 
8 


1 1 4  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

'  What  do  the  men  say  on  deck  ?  " 

"They  are  getting  ready  the  boats,  and  some  are  talk- 
ing of  a  raft. " 

Herbert  Murray  sank  back  with  a  groan,  burying  his 
face  in  his  hands. 

Meanwhile,  young  Jack  was  writing  out  his  statement 
of  the  case  to  expose  the  shipowner's  villany. 

And  this  being  done,  he  enclosed  it,  together  with  a 
hastily  written  farewell  to  his  father  and  mother,  little 
Emily,  and  friends,  in  a  bottle,  which  was  tightly  corked 
and  sealed. 

Then  it  was  committed  to  the  waves. 

"  Now  for  the  lifebelts !  " 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

BETTER  NEWS — THE  SKIPPER  MEETS   AN  OLD   COMRADE — STRANGE 

REVELATIONS — THE    CAPTAIN'S    RESOLVE "WE'LL    DO    THEM 

YET,   BY  THE  LORD  HARRY  !  " 

Now,  while  preparations  were  made  for  dire  extremi- 
ties below,  matters  grew  better  above. 

The  wind  lulled,  and  Captain  Deering  exclaimed  in  the 
fulness  of  his  heart — 

' '  We  shall  pull  her  through  now,  the  rotten  old  sponge  ! " 

"For  the  present,  sir,"  said  a  voice  close  to  his  ear. 

Captain  Deering  turned  round,  and  there  was  Nat 
Cringle. 

"Hullo,  my  man  1"  he  said,  biting  his  lip  with  vexa- 
tion, "  you  oughtn't  to  be  at  my  elbow  to  pick  up  every 
word  I  may  happen  to  let  fall." 

Nat  Cringle  pulled  his  forelock  in  salute,  and  gave  an 
apologetic  scrape  with  his  foot. 

"All  right,  captain,  I'm  mum.  Axing  your  pardon,  I 
took  the  liberty  o'  speaking  on  the  score  of  this  not  being 
the  first  nor  the  tightest  scrape  we've  been  in  together." 

"We!" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"I  scarcely  remember,"  murmured  the  captain,  in  the 
voice  of  one  diving  back  into  the  past,  "and  yet  I  should 
know  your  voice.  Why,  let  me  think. " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  115 

"  Don't  your  honour  remember  the  '  Lively  Polly  '?  " 
Here  he  broke  out  into  a  snatch  of  a  sea  song — 

"  If  you  wish  to  know  the  liveliest  craft  that  ever  sailed  from  port, 
Why,  that's  my  Polly — the  '  Lively  Polly ' — and  she's  a  rare  good 
sort." 

"The  '  Lively  Polly '!"  quoth  Captain  Deering;  "I 
should  think  I  do  remember,  and  now,  Nat  Cringle,  I 
remember  you." 

"Oh!" 

"  Nat  Cringle's  your  name,  is  it  not?  " 

"Aye,  aye,  sir." 

"Tip  me  your  fin,  Nat  Cringle,"  said  the  skipper  heart- 
ily ;  "I'm  precious  glad  to  sail  with  an  old  comrade. 
Why,  where  have  you  been  all  these  long  years,  old  ship- 
mate ?  " 

"Knocking  about,  cap'n,"  replied  the  sailor,  "up  and 
down — often  er  down  than  up,  if  the  real  truth  be  spoken." 

"And  so,  Nat,  you  think  the  'Albatross'  will  only  pull 
through  for  the  present  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Why?" 

"Your  honour  needn't  ask  that,"  replied  the  sailor, 
"seeing  as  you  know  all  about  the  ship  now  as  much  as 
I  do." 

"Aye,  Nat  Cringle,  but  from  the  way  you  speak,  you 
show  me  that  you  have  known  something  more  about 
the  '  Albatross '  than  you  choose  to  tell  for  a  long  while 
past. " 

"Not  more  than  you,  captain,"  said  Nat  Cringle. 
"Leastways,  I  suppose  not,  considering  as  you've  em- 
barked in  the  same  venture  as  me." 

"  You  suppose  so  ? " 

"Aye,  aye,  sir." 

"Tell  that  to  the  marines,  Joe,"  said  Captain  Deering, 
"sailors  won't  believe  it.  We  all  know  what  you  believe. 
You  know  as  well  as  possible  that  I  only  came  up  at  the 
eleventh  hour  to  take  Captain  Robinson's  place  when  he 
was  taken  ill." 

Nat  laughed. 

"When  what?" 

"When  Captain  Robinson  was  taken  ill,  I  say." 


1 1 6  YO  UNO  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  Nat  Cringle,  grimly.  "  You  kno\c 
all  about  that,  sir. " 

"What?" 

"  Why,  about  Captain  Robinson's  illness." 

"I  don't  quite  know  what  you  are  driving  at,  Nat," 
said  Captain  Deering. 

There  was  a  peculiar  look  in  his  eyes  and  a  strange 
twang  in  his  voice  that  told  as  plainly  as  possible  that 
his  suspicions  were  aroused  by  the  sailor's  manner. 

' '  I'll  tell  you,  Captain  Deering, "  replied  Nat  "  I  know, 
and  you  know  too — leastways  your  honour  ought  to  know 
— that  Captain  Robinson  was  about  as  ill  as  I  am  at  this 
present  moment." 

"What?" 

"Of  course  you  know  he  was  only  shamming." 

The  skipper  broke  in  indignantly  at  this. 

"Do  you  know,  Nat,  what  you  are  saying?  Captain 
Robinson  is  one  of  my  best  and  oldest  friends." 

"The  devil  he  is  !"  said  Nat  Cringle.  "Why,  then, 
he  ought  to  be  keelhauled  and  have  a  round  dozen,  and 
be  tarred  and  feathered  and  pitched  overboard,  the  swab." 

Nat  Cringle's  manner  was  so  full  of  downright  earnest- 
ness that  the  skipper  could  not  mistake  it. 

"  Do  you  really  think,  old  shipmate,"  he  said,  earnestly, 
sinking  his  voice  to  a  whisper,  "that  Captain  Robin- 
son  " 

He  paused. 

He  could  not  bring  himself  to  put  his  thoughts  into 
words. 

Nat  nodded. 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  said,  "that's  just  it.  He  knew  well 
enough.  It's  all  a  game — a  sort  of  play  at  life  and  death. 
They  speculate  with  money  for  your  life  and  ours,  and 
the  best  news  that  they  could  hear,  would  be  that  the 
rotten  old  '  Albatross  '  had  gone  to  the  bottom,  and  with 
her  every  mortal  soul  on  board." 

Captain  Deering  walked  aft  in  great  emotion. 

After  pacing  the  deck  for  several  minutes  he  came  back 
to  where  Nat  Cringle  stood,  stock  still,  awaiting  him. 

"Nat  Cringle,"  he  said,  earnestly,  "  we  have  sailed  to- 
gether often  enough,  and  we  have  faced  death  too  often 
together  for  there  to  be  any  deception  or  concealment 
between  us.* 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  Iiy 

"Aye,  aye,  sir." 

"  How  came  it  that,  knowing  this,  you  are  here  ?  " 

"Because  I  know  very  well,"  returned  the  old  salt, 
with  the  same  air  of  conviction  that  he  had  previously 
shown  in  his  conversation  with  Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood, 
"  that  nothing  can  hurt  me — that,  come  weal,  come  woe, 
I  shan't  go  to  the  bottom. " 

The  skipper  looked  amazed  at  this  declaration. 

"  Do  you  mean  it  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"You  think  that  you  bear  a  charmed  life?  " 

"If  you  like  to  put  it  like  that,  your  honour,"  returned 
the  sailor,  smiling,  "I  feel  that  I  can't  go  down,  else  I 
shouldn't  have  come  aboard  the  '  Albatross,'  nor,  in  fact, 
any  ship  belonging  to  old  Murray." 

"I  don't  understand  you  quite,  Nat." 

"It's  easy  understood,  cap'n,"  returned  Nat  Cringle, 
warming  up  on  his  favourite  theme.  "He  gets  hold  of 
some  rotten  old  hull  that's  been  condemned,  and  dodges 
it  up  with  paint  and  putty,  and  he  gets  a  cargo  in  a  strange 
port.  Then  he  puffs  it  up  and  gets  hold  of  a  captain 
whose  name  is  well  known  amongst  the  merchants  and 
shippers,  and  so  gets  hold  of  passengers  and  cargo.  The 
'  more  passengers  the  better,  you  see.  Well,  he  and  Cap- 
tain Robinson  have  worked  this  job  together,  and  a  nice 
bargain  they've  made  of  it.  Captain  Robinson  never 
meant  sailing  in  her,  of  course.  He  waits  till  the  last 
moment,  and  then  he  gets  hold  of  you." 

Captain  Deering  here  interrupted  him  with  a  boisterous 
exclamation. 

"  Do  you  know  how  he  got  hold  of  me,  Nat  Cringle? " 

"No,  sir." 

"Then  I'll  tell  you.  I  was  in  trouble  up  in  London. 
I  was  in  precious  low  water.  My  name  was  on  a  heavy 
bill  for  a  poor  devil  who'd  gone  queer,  and  they  were 
going  to  nab  me  for  it,  to  lodge  me  in  limbo. " 

"The  swabs." 

"  Well,  I  looked  up  my  pals  to  help  me  through,  and  I 
thought  of  my  old  mate  Robinson.  He  sent  me  word 
that  he  couldn't  help  me  with  money,  that  he  was  very 
ill,  but  that  he  could  get  me  a  ship  at  once,  and  start  me 
off  before  the  sharks  could  get  scent  of  my  whereabouts. 
Down  I  came  on  the  sly  and  took  ship." 


1 18  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"  The  mean,  artful  son  of  a  sea-cook,"  ejaculated  hon- 
est Nat  Cringle. 

"I  begin  to  see  clear  now,  Nat,"  said  the  skipper, 
thoughtfully  ;  "  and  if  I  don't  spoil  their  speculations,  you 
can  call  me  all  the  lubbers  you  can  lay  your  tongue  to. " 

Nat  Cringle  grew  quite  excited  at  this. 

"  Captain  Deering,  would  your  honour  be  offended  at 
a  suggestion  ? " 

"Offended,  Nat !  There's  no  shame  to  any  sailor,  what- 
ever his  grade,  in  asking  your  advice,  old  comrade." 

"  Thank  your  honour.     Well,  then " 

"  Your  advice  ? " 

"Put  her  about,  and  let  us  run  for  the  nearest  port. 
Have  the  British  consul  on  board,  and  let  the  ship  be 
surveyed.  If  Lloyd's  agent  gets  over  her  after  the  strain- 
ing she's  undergone  in  this  gale,  she'll  be  condemned  as 
sure  as  eggs  is." 

The  skipper  looked  about  him,  and  took  an  earnest  sur- 
vey of  the  weather  signs. 

"Nat  Cringle,"  he  said,  clapping  the  old  salt  on  the 
shoulder,  "it  shall  be  done.  If  the  rotten  'Albatross' 
will  hold  together,  we'll  do  them  yet,  by  the  Lord  Harry." 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

A  WRINKLE   IN   PUMPING — THE   SOUNDING   ROD — JACK   READS 
THE   OLDEST  TAR   ON    BOARD    A   LESSON. 

CAPTAIN  DEERING  had  the  men  served  with  another 
allowance  of  grog. 

And  again  he  sang  out  the  order  so  often  heard  in  this 
short  voyage — 

"All  hands  pump  ship  ? " 

This  time  it  was  readily,  if  not  quite  cheerfully, 
obeyed. 

As  Nat  Cringle  said,  the  constant  bending  over  the 
pumps  strained  their  backs  woefully. 

"If  I  go  on  much  longer,  "said  another  tar,  ruefully, 
"  damme  if  I  shan't  get  as  humpty  backed  as  King  Dick 
in  the  play. " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  119 

"There's  a  simple  remedy  for  that,  my  men,"  said 
young  Jack,  promptly. 

"What  is  it?" 

"Rig  up  bell-ropes  on  to  the  pumps  and  you  won't 
have  to  stoop." 

"Bravo  !  " 

They  set  to  it  at  once. 

A  bell-rope  is  a  short  rope  with  a  thimble,  or  iron  ring 
spliced  into  one  end. 

The  thimbles  were  slipped  over  the  handles. 

This  done,  the  men  tailed  on  to  the  ropes  to  pull  the 
handles  round. 

By  dint  of  this  simple  artifice  the  work  was  done 
quicker  and  better,  and  with  half  the  fatigue. 

When  next  they  sounded  the  well,  there  was  no  abate- 
ment. 

This  naturally  discouraged  the  men,  who  murmured 
ominously. 

One  old  fellow,  with  grizzly  hair  and  beard,  dropped 
off,  and  swore  a  good  round  oath  that  he  would  work  no 
more. 

"She's  settling,"  he  said  ;  and  a  look  of  dismay  was 
seen  upon  most  of  the  anxious  faces  present. 

"I  don't  believe  it" 

"You  don't  believe  it  !  "  said  the  old  fellow,  fiercely. 
"What  does  a  boy  like  you  know  about  it?  I  tell  you 
she's  going  down. " 

"I  tell  you,  then,  Norris,"  said  young  Jack,  firmly, 
"she's  doing  no  such  thing  ;  and  if  she  were,  why,  that's 
no  reason  why  you  should  desert  your  duty. " 

"More  I  don't,"  retorted  the  sailor,  savagely,  "only 
at  the  last  gasp,  and  I  mean  to  make  a  kick  for  it.  As 
long  as  it's  of  use  I  was  willing  to  pump  ;  but  now  she's 
going  down  I  mean  to  save  my  breath,  and  not  be  so 
pumped." 

Jack  saw  with  a  sinking  heart  that  several  of  the  men 
were  about  to  follow  the  old  sailor's  example. 

"Wait  a  bit,  wait  a  bit,"  he  exclaimed,  eagerly,  "and 
I'll  soon  show  you  that  I'm  right  and  he's  wrong." 

The  old  man  grunted. 

"Give  him  a  chance,  Norris,"  cried  Nat  Cringle. 
"  Damme,  give  him  fair  play." 

"Every   time   we've  sounded  the   well    for  the    last 


120  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

twenty-four  hours,  "said  young  Jack,  "it  has  gained  upon 
us — slowly,    very  slowly,   thanks  to   our  hard    struggle 
with  it — yet  none  the  less  surely." 
'It  has." 

'And  that's  cold  comfort  to  give  us,"  growled  Norris. 
'  Well,  the  last  time  we  sounded,  it  was  stationary." 
;  What  of  that  ?  " 

'  Stow  your  gaff !  "  interrupted  Nat  Cringle.  ' '  Damme, 
you're  enough  to  make  the  Pope  o'  Rome  swear.  Don't 
you  see  what  Master  Harkaway  is  a-driving  at  ? " 

"No." 

"Then  you  must  ha'  got  your  figger-'eds  stuffed  with 
sawdust  instead  of  brains.  Why,  if  it's  a  level  fight 
now,  or  on  last  soundings,  with  the  water,  why  it's 
better  than  it  was  before,  inasmuch  and  seeing  as  how 
it  had  us  at  aadwantage  before." 

"Nat  Cringle  has  just  said  what  I  was  trying  to  get 
at,"  said  Jack.  "Now  listen." 

"Aye,  aye?" 

"  Let  us  have  one  more  shy,"  said  young  Jack  ;  "I'll 
take  Norris's  place,  for  we  don't  want  any  half-hearted 
coves  this  turn. " 

"And  I'll  take  Marshall's,"  said  Harry  Girdwood. 

"  Bravo  !  "  said  one  of  the  sailors. 

The  cheer  was  caught  up  readily,  for  the  example  of 
these  plucky  youngsters  was  the  very  thing  to  give  a 
fillip  to  these  poor  worn-out  sailors,  and  worn  out  they 
were  and  no  mistake,  every  man  of  them. 

"Now,  Norris,"  said  Jack,  "you  go  and  sound  the 
well." 

' '  Aye,  aye,  sir  !  " 

In  the  course  of  a  few  moments  back  came  old  Norris 
with  ' '  a  face  as  long  as  a  fiddle, "  as  one  of  the  sailors 
remarked. 

"A  fiddle  !  "  quoth  Jack.      "A  bass-viol  you  mean." 

At  this  they  all  laughed. 

The  old  man  gave  his  report  with  a  precious  lugubrious 
air. 

It  was  somewhat  serious,  and  Jack  felt  it  to  be  so. 

"Now  then,  mates,"  cried  Nat  Cringle;  "no  more 
palaver  ;  but  let's  go  in  and  give  her  a  proper  doing  for 
a  spell,  and  if  we  don't  make  the  sounding-rod  tell  a 
warstly  different  tale  in  the  splicing  of  a  mainbrace,  you 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  iai 

may  call  me  the  darndest  loblolliboy  as  ever  smarted 
his  grinders  over  a  twel'month-old  ship  biscuit." 

This  made  the  men  grin. 

Young  Jack  struck  up  a  snatch  of  an  old  song,  slightly 
altered  for  the  occasion — 

" '  Pull  away  merrily, 
Pull  away  cheenly, 

Send  the  pumps'  fly-wheels  all  fast  spinning  round. 
Each  try  at  the  bell  ropes, 
Heightens  our  well  hopes, 
And  the  rod  shall  encourage  us  when  next  we  sound.' " 

The  air  was  brisk  and  lively,  and  Jack's  impromptu  dog- 
gerel was  more  welcome  to  those  hard-working  tars  than 
the  Laureate's  most  polished  stanzas  would  have  been. 
The  men  caught  up  the  chorus  all  together. 
The  fly-wheels  did  go  round  as  Jack  sang. 
"  Hullo  !"  cried  one  of  the  sailors,  "here  comes  old 
Norris  again  with  his  report." 

'Jest  look  at  his  winegar  mug,"  said  another. 
'Now,  Norris." 
'Speak  up,  man,"  said  Jack. 
'  Out  with  it,"  cried  a  sailor,  impatiently. 
'  What's  the  werdick  ?  "  said  another. 
'Well,"  says  Norris,  putting  a  plug  of  Cavendish  into 
his  cheek   with   aggravating   deliberation,  "  this  young 
fellow  was  right — I   was  wrong  ;  and  what's  more,  I'm 
not  fool  enough  to  be  sorry  to  own  myself  licked  by  such 
a  proper  young  cove." 
"Bravo,  Norris  !  " 

But  Norris,  heedless  of  the  approving  cheer,  only 
turned  to  Jack  Harkaway. 

"Give  us  your  flipper,  youngster,"  he  said  ;   "  if  you 
only  live  to  be  my  age,  you'll  be   able  to   take  a  rise  out 
of  any  post-captain   in  the  Royal  Navy — aye,  damme  ! 
and  the  port  admiral  into  the  bargain. " 
Jack  grinned. 
The  men  cheered. 

"This  is  all  right  and  proper,  Norris, "  said  Nat  Cringle, 
who  was  not  a  little  gratified  with  his  crusty  old  ship- 
mate's conduct  ;  "but  how  about  the  well?" 

"Why,  you  see,  some  folks " 

"  Awast,  Ned,  awast,"  exclaimed  Nat  ;  no  yarn." 


122  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Well,  then,  we've  gained  just  four  inches  on  her." 
"  Huzza !  " 

"  Huzza  !  "  yelled  the  men. 

"Tune  up  again,  Jack,"  cried  Harry  Girdwood,  ex- 
citedly, "  and  let's  have  one  more  go." 

" '  Pull  away  merrily, 

Pull  away  cheerily '  " 

"  Hold  'ard,  there,"  cried  Norris,  pulling  young  Jack 
away  ;  "  you  take  a  turn  at  the  sounding  too,  and  let  this 

d d  obstinate   old  grampus  get   back  to  his  dooty. 

****** 

Young  Jack  made  three  soundings,  and  reported  each 
time. 

The  lad's  manner  seemed  to  fire  the  men  with  new 
energy  every  time  he  returned  to  report 

The  third  time  he  came  back  from  sounding  the  well. 

"  How  are  we  getting  on  ?  "  cried  the  men  eagerly. 

' '  Why, "  answered  Jack,  grinning  over  his  face,  ' '  you'vt* 
sucked  her  dry  as  a  bone.  So  now  I  propose  that  wt> 
obey  the  good  old  maxim,  and  let  well  alone." 

Never  did  these  honest  tars  ever  hear  a  joke  so 
thoroughly  to  their  tastes. 

That  done,  Harry  Girdwood  made  a  proposition  that 
was  far  from  being  distasteful  to  the  crew. 

"With  Captain  Deering's  permission,"  he  said,  "I 
shall  treat  you  all  round  to  another  go  of  grog." 

"  Hurrah  !  " 

Harry  went  and  asked  permission,  and  what's  more  he 
got  it  too. 

"As  you  like,  Mr.  Girdwood,"  said  the  skipper,  "but 
neither  you  nor  Mr.  Harkaway  must  ask  me  again  to- 
day, for  I  couldn't  refuse  you  any  thing.  You  are  made 
of  the  right  stuff  that  England's  sailors  are  built  of,  and 
you've  done  more  between  you  towards  saving  the 
'  Albatross '  than  any  man  aboard. " 


ffZS  BOY  TINKER.  123 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A    BANQUET   AFLOAT — "    TOASTS    AND     SENTIMENTS" — MR.      NERO 

IN   THE    CHAIR MR.     FIGGINS    RESPONDS HIS    ACCIDENT   WITH 

NERO PANTOMIME    WITH    A    MAMMOTH    PIE UNLUCKY    BOGEY  ! 

ALL  work  and  no  play  makes  Jack  a  dull  boy. 

Our  Jack  was  a  real  good  one  to  work,  as  we  all 
know. 

He  could  play,  too. 

Moreover,  he  could  make  others  play,  and  enjoy  his 
fun. 

The  carpenter  and  his  mate  were  sent  down  below  to 
the  hold,  to  caulk  and  patch  and  trim  the  soft-wooded 
old  carcase  in  the  most  dangerous  places,  before  the 
water  could  gain  upon  her  again,  and  while  this  was  go- 
ing forward,  Jack  and  his  chum,  Harry  Girdwood,  enter- 
tained a  select  party,  by  special  permission  of  the  skipper, 
in  their  own  cabin. 

Jack  stood  treat. 

It  was  not  a  very  grand  affair,  but  the  honest  tars 
thought  it  a  banquet  fit  for  the  gods. 

Jack  now  treated  them,  by  the  steward's  aid,  to  a 
stewed  rabbit  and  smoking  hot  potatoes,  cooked  in  their 
jackets,  some  boiled  pork,  and  pease  pudding  and  other 
delicacies. 

Some  prime  corned  beef  was  on  the  festive  board,  too, 
and  there  was  beer  and  grog  to  moisten  it  withal ;  so  that 
the  guests  voted  Jack  a  trump,  and  drank  his  health  in 
bumpers  round  to  an  accompaniment  of  loud,  ringing 
cheers. 

Now  amongst  the  company  assembled  to  do  honour  to 
the  occasion  were  the  two  young  darkeys,  Tinker  and 
his  "valet,"  Bogey,  for  much  to  Murray's  and  Chivey's 
disgust,  they  had  by  this  time  found  out  the  ghostly  trick 
played  upon  them  by  Jack's  boy  Tinker,  but  to  tell  the 
truth,  they  were  both  glad  that  Tinker  was  not  killed. 

Our  faithful  old  friend  Nero  was  seated  in  the  place  of 
honour,  dressed  in  a  glittering  naval  uniform  and  a  grand 
cocked  hat. 


124  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

Nero  did  not  take  it  for  a  laughing  matter,  we  can  as- 
sure you,  but  sat  at  the  head  of  the  table  as  grave  and 
dignified  as  though  he  had  been  the  lord  high  admiral 
himself. 

"My  Lord  Nero,"  said  Jack,  filling  his  glass,  "  I  drink 
to  the  health  of  the  skipper,  Captain  Deering." 

"Captain  Deering  1 "  shouted  the  sailor  guests. 

"Stop  a  bit,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Figgins,  getting  on 
his  legs  ;  "  let's  have  Captain  Deering  with  due  honours.' 

"Three  times  three!" 

"Aye,  aye." 

"No, "cried  Nat  Cringle,  "with  nine  times  nine  at 
t^e  very  least.  Take  the  time  from  me,  please,  and  all 
together — hip,  hip,  hip,  hurrah  1 " 

"Hurrah!" 

"Hurrah!" 

You  would  scarcely  have  thought  it  possible  that  they 
could  be  on  board  a  ship  which  one  and  all  had  con- 
demned so  recently. 

A  ship  which  would,  beyond  all  doubt,  have  gone  down 
with  skipper  and  crew,  but  for  their  manful  and  untiring 
exertions. 

"And  now  a  little  one  in,  "said  Nat  Cringle,  waving 
his  hand. 

They  responded,  too,  with  a  will,  one  and  all 

"  For  he's  a  jolly  good  fellow, 
For  he's  a  jolly  good  fellow, 
For  he's  a  jolly  good  fellow, 

And  so  say  all  of  us, 

And  so  say  all  of  us, 

And  so  say  all  of  us, 
With  a  hip,  hip,  hurrah  I " 

And  so  forth,  with  a  general  chorus  ad  lib. 

Jack  noticed  that  Nero  had  a  knack  of  swinging  his 
glass  round,  as  he  responded  by  gestures  to  the  invitation 
to  give  a  toast,  watching  all  his  master's  movements  with 
startling  fidelity. 

So  he  prepared. 

"  Charge  your  glasses, "  cried  the  orphan,  in  the  pompous 
manner  of  a  toast-master  at  a  public  banquet ;  "bumpers, 
gentlemen." 

Jack  had  filled  Nero's  glass  up,  and  then  catching  his 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER.  12$ 

eye,  Jack  waved  his  own  glass,  which  was  empty,  round 
to  the  right,  with  a  jerky  air. 

Nero  followed  suit. 

Now  Mr.  Figgins  was  Nero's  next-door  neighbour,  and 
the  orphan  received  the  contents  of  Nero's  glass  down 
his  collar,  and  over  his  shirt  front,  and  the  glass,  slipping 
from  Nero's  hand,  struck  the  orphan  in  the  face. 

"Oh!" 

"Hallo!" 

"  Murder  !  "  yelled  Mr.  Figgins,  springing  up. 

Nero  grew  frightened,  and  jumped  on  to  the  table  at 
once,  playing  havoc  with  the  dishes. 

Mr.  Figgins  scrambled  out  of  his  seat,  and  made  for 
the  companion  ladder. 

But  somehow  or  other  he  got  the  leg  of  a  camp  stool 
between  his  legs,  and  tripped  up. 

Nero  jumped  on  his  back  in  a  jiffy,  and  the  sailors 
laughed  until  the  tears  ran  down  their  cheeks. 

"Help!" 

"Go  it,  Nero!" 

"  Murder  !  take  the  monster  oft" 

' '  Keep  it  up,  Nero  !  hi  !  hi !  " 

Nero  wanted  no  inciting  to  mischief. 

He  was  as  playful  as  a  kitten,  and  we  verily  believe 
that  he  understood  fun  as  well  as  his  friends  and  patrons 
generally. 

"  Help  !  "  yelled  Mr.  Figgins  ;  "hell  murder  me  !  " 

He  grew  desperate  in  his  struggling,  and  scrambling  to 
his  feet,  he  tripped  Nero  over. 

One  desperate  plunge,  and  he  reached  the  stairs. 

Three  at  a  time  he  went  up  them. 

But  poor  Mr.  Figgins'  troubles  were  not  yet  at  an  end. 

At  the  foot  of  the  stairs  he  encountered  Bogey,  who 
was  descending  with  a  huge  aea-pie  swimming  about  in 
a  mammoth  dish,  full  of  smoking  hot  gravy. 

The  orphan  was  shooting  up  head  forwards,  and 
pressed  down  like  an  old  goat  butting  an  enemy,  and  he 
shot  just  under  the  sea-pie,  and  landed  Bogey  in  the 
belly. 

Bogey  yelled. 

"Oh,  golly!" 

Down  fell  the  dish,  pie,  orphan  and  all — a  regular  smok- 
ing avalanche — that  rolled  along  the  orphan's  back,  while 


126  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

the  stinging  hot  gravy  found  a  channel  for  itself  between 
his  shirt  collar  and  his  flesh. 

The  result  was  that  Mr.  Figgins'  underclothing  was 
literally  saturated  with  the  luscious  juice,  which  was 
unpleasantly  warm. 

Down  he  went  the  whole  length  of  the  cabin  floor, 
considerably  faster  even  than  he  had  gone  up  the 
stairs. 

Down  flopped  Bogey,  plump  into  the  orphan's  stomach. 

And  up  he  got,  "looking,"  as  Nat  Cringle  said,  "all 
ways  for  Sunday. " 

' '  Golly  !  what  dis  all  mean  ? " 

That  was  all  that  the  astonished  darkey  could  manage 
to  iterate. 

It  had  all  been  so  sudden  and  unexpected. 

"Oh!"  groaned  Mr.  Figgins;  "why  did  I  leave  my 
happy  home  on  land  to  come  to  sea,  and  meet  with  such 
disasters — oh  !  " 

The  company  literally  yelled  with  delight. 

Sailors  are  a  rough  lot,  and  there  are  few  tars  but  relish 
practical  joking. 

Mr.  Figgins,  sitting  up,  with  the  gravy  streaming  down 
his  hair  and  cheeks,  presented  such  a  ludicrous  and  de- 
plorable figure,  that  it  was  no  wonder  that  they  laughed. 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!" 

"You  may  laugh,"  he  said,  ruefully,  "but  how  would 
you  like  hot  juice  from  a  pie  down  your  back  ?  Just  you 
answer  me  that. " 

"Capital !  "  ejaculated  young  Harkaway ;  "it  must  be 
tuce." 

"So  sweet  \ "    chimed  in  Harry  Girdwood. 

"But  it  was  well  done,  Mr.  Figgins,"  said  Jack.  "I 
hitd  no  idea  you  had  got  such  spirits  for  a  lark,  sir." 

' '  What !  "  cried  the  astonished  Mr.  Figgins.^    "  A  lark  ?  " 

"Yes.  Why,  you  would  have  made  an  immense  for- 
t'me,  sir,  as  a  harlequin  in  the  pantomime." 

"Give  him  a  cheer." 

They  did,  too. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,"  began  the  orphan^at  length, 
when  he  could  succeed  in  obtaining  a  hearing,  "that 
you  think  I  did  it  for  fun  ? " 

"Of  course  you  did,"  said  Jack. 

"But — but  I  assure  you,"  began  the  orphan,  "  1— -  " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  127 

"Dat,  sar,"said  Tinker,  bowing  at  Mr.  Figgins,  "am 
awful  gollopshus  beastly  fine  lark  ob  yourn,  sar. 

"  Massa  Figgins  comes  down, 
And  cracks  his  crown, 
And  Bogey  comes  tumbling  after. 

/ 

Yah,  yah,  yah  !  " 

Tinker's  new  version  of  Jack  and  Jill  was  highly 
applauded  by  one  and  all  present. 

"Dat  all  bery  fine,  Massa  Figleaf,"  said  Bogey,  "but 
you  spile  dis  chile's  beauty." 

"  Bravo,  Bogey  !  " 

"And  dis  chile  don't  like  it,  sar,  by  golly,  sar.  Dis 
chile  owe  you  one,  Massa  Figleaf,  for  dat — oh  !  " 

"  Hold  your  catawampus  jaw,  you  ignorant  nigger," 
cried  Tinker,  shying  a  hot  and  soft  potato  at  his  follower's 
head,  "and  listen  to  your  s'perior  hossifer;  Massa  Fig- 
gins  do  it  lubly  bew'ful." 

"  Bravo  for  funny  Figgins  !  " 

"  His  health  in  a  bumper  round,  messmates." 

His  health  was  then  given  with  all  due  honours. 

The  poor  orphan  began  to  think  that  he  was  being  made 

ihm  of. 

*****  * 

"  Mr.  Harkaway." 

"Hallo!" 

"Wanted,  sir." 

"  By  whom?" 

"  The  captain." 

"I'm  there,"  responded  young  Jack,  springing  up. 

He  flew  up  the  cabin  stairs,  and  was  with  Captain 
Deering  in  half  a  crack. 

"Sent  for  me,  sir?  " 

"Yes,  Mr.  Harkaway,"  said  the  skipper.  "  I'm  sorry 
to  break  in  upon  your  festivity,  but  duty " 

"  Must  be  obeyed,  sir,"  responded  young  Jack. 

' '  Quite  right, "  said  the  captain.  ' '  Well,  then,  the  wind, 
I  find,  is  freshening  again." 

"Hah!" 

"Pass  the  word  to  Nat  Cringle,  and  old — what-d'ye- 
call-him  ? — to  come  up." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir?" 


128  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"We  must  keep  her  away.  Clear  away  the  fore-top- 
sail," he  suddenly  sang  out. 

Then  watching  for  a  smooth  chance,  he  gave  the  order 
to  hoist  away. 

The  sail  was  quickly  set 

The  helm  was  put  up,  and  the  lee  main-braces — checked 
a  foot  or  two,  the  object  of  this  manoeuvre  being  to  ease 
the  wind  out  of  the  topsail. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

FIGHTING  WITH  DEATH A  TOUGH  STRUGGLE,  AND  BEATEN  AFTER 

ALL "  LOOK  TO  YOUR  LIFE  RAFT,  AS  SMART  AS  YOU  LIKE  !  " 

IT  was  a  moment — a  good  long  one,  by  the  way,  of 
considerable  anxiety  to  all. 

It  was  no  joke  what  Captain  Deering  was  after  now. 

The  danger  of  the  movement  precious  soon  made  itself 
apparent. 

The  sea  caught  the  ship  abeam,  and  as  it  did  so,  a  tre- 
mendous wave  was  seen  curling  up  astern,  rushing  on 
in  pursuit  of  the  "Albatross  "  as  if  to  engulf  it 

Roaring  like  a  hungry  monster  for  its  helpless  prey,  it 
came  on. 

"  Hold  fast !  "  yelled  the  captain  ;  "hold  on  for  your 
lives,  men,  fore  and  aft." 

Harry  Girdwood  and  Jack,  holding  by  each  other,  and 
with  their  disengaged  hands  grasping  the  nearest  ropes 
they  could  clutch,  were  jerked  so  violently  that  their 
wrists  were  well  nigh  dislocated,  and  it  was  marvellous 
indeed  that  they  were  not  one  and  all  swallowed  up  by 
the  sea. 

The  only  thing  which  saved  the  "Albatross"  from 
instant  destruction,  was  the  fact  of  the  bulwarks  being 
washed  away  in  pieces  by  the  severity  of  the  late  gale. 

The  "Albatross"  quivered  from  stem  to  stern  ! 

However,  as  soon  as  the  water  found  its  way  off  the 
decks  rapidly,  the  ship  paid  off  quickly  enough,  and  in 
the  course  of  a  few  moments  they  were  going  along  dead 
before  the  gale. 


HJS  BOY  TINKER. 


129 


The  force  of  the  wind  was  felt  much  less,  of  course,  than 
when  they  went  head  to  it. 

The  sea,  however,  was  very  heavy. 

Soon  after  this  one,  monster  wave  came  roaring  after 
them  astern,  like  a  mountain  suddenly  invested  with  life, 
and  they  saw  that  although  there  was  not  the  same  danger 
as  in  the  previous  visitation  there  was  a  precious  ugly 
shock  to  be  anticipated. 

It  was  a  terrible  shock  this  time. 

Young  Jack  thought  they  were  gone  for  a  certainty. 

Even  old  Nat  Cringle  avowed  afterwards  that  he  was  in 
a  thundering  rage.  Because  why?  "He  was  going  to 
get  a  lot  more  trouble  to  reach  shore  safe  and  sound  than 
he  had  bargained  for  " — not  that  his  faith  in  his  wonder- 
ful good  luck  deserted  him  even  then  ! 

The  sheets  were  now  hauled  aft,  and  the  foresail  had 
been  loosed,  and  the  ship  shot  faster  through  the  water. 

The  whole  topsails  were  now  set  and  matters  looked 
more  promising. 

Once  more  they  had,  by  the  prompt  and  skilful  seaman- 
ship of  the  skipper,  escaped  a  deadly  peril. 

But  there  was  no  rest  for  the  hard-worked  crew. 

"Pump  ship!"  sang  out  the  first  mate,  "all  hands 
pump  ship  ! " 

"That's  a  good  thing,"  growled  Nat  Cringle,  with  an 
oath. 

"You're  right  there,  Nat,"  said  a  voice  at  his  elbow. 

Nat  turned  round. 

"  Ax  pardon,  Captain  Deering,"  said  the  old  salt  with 
a  grin,  "  but  I  should  like  to  be  wrung  out  fust." 

"Help  keep  this  old  sponge  afloat,  Nat  Cringle,"  said 
the  skipper,  with  a  fierce  air  of  determination,  "and  you 
shall  get  wrung  out." 

"  I  ain't  afeard " 

"Quite  right,"  said  Captain  Deering,  with  a  smile, 
"but  help  keep  the  ship  afloat,  Nat,  for  the  sake  of  the 

rest  of  them,  and  for " 

'  For  what  ?  " 

'To  help  pay  off  old  scores  with    the  owner,  old 
Murray. " 

'I  will,  sir." 

'And  my  friend  Captain  Joe  Robinson." 
'  Damme,  that  I  will  1  *'  said  Cringle,  heartily. 
9 


X  30  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

From  that  moment  old  Nat  was  all  over  the  ship. 

Lending  one  a  hand  here,  and  encouraging  the  half- 
drowned,  shivering  crew  there  by  his  cheery  voice  and 
valuable  assistance. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

"  What  do  you  think  of  matters  now,  Captain  Deer- 
ing?" 

The  speaker  was  our  young  hero,  Jack  Harkaway. 

"It'll  take  us  all  our  time  to  pull  through  unless  we 
sight  land  within  a  reasonable  time." 

"Hah!" 

It  was  enough  to  make  the  listener  say  "  hah  !  " 

The  ship  laboured  and  groaned  ominously. 

There  was  no  possible  doubt  about  the  peril. 

But  the  danger  was  not  immediate. 

Good  seamanship  and  incessant  labour  at  the  pumps 
kept  her  afloat. 

But  Captain  Deering  had  told  those  to  whom  he  could 
safely  entrust  his  views  that  it  was  but  a  question  of 
time. 

"  We  may  yet  pull  through,"  he  said,  "  if  we  sight  land 
soon,  or  if  we  fall  in  with  assistance  and  get  towed  into 
port." 

Eagerly  they  scanned  the  horizon  with  their  glasses. 

All  in  vain. 

Not  the  faintest  speck  in  sight  wherever  they  looked. 
****** 

"Nat,  captain  wants  you." 
"Aye,  aye,  sir." 

Nat  Cringle  ran  up  on  deck  to  the  skipper. 
Captain  Deering  was  looking  anxiously  ahead,  and  so 
engrossed  with  his  observations,  that  he  did  not  hear  the 
old  tar's  approach. 
'Here  I  am,  sir." 
1  What  do  you  think  now,  Nat  ?  " 

'Well,  I  think " 

'  Out  with  it,  Nat ;  no  palavering  with  me,  you  know." 
'  Well,  then,   I  think  as  it's  as  nigh  all  up  with  the 
*  Albatross'  as  it  well  can  be." 
The  skipper  sighed. 

"Just  my  notion,  Nat,"  he  said;  "not  that  I'm  going 
to  give  in  yet  awhile ;  only  let  us  be  prepared. " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  131 

"Aye,  aye,  sir." 

"For  the  sake  of  the  passengers,  if  not  for  ourselves, 
get  the  ship's  carpenter,  and  see  what  you  can  get  to- 
gether between  you  towards  fixing  up  a  big  life  raft. " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"That  with  the  boats  will  perhaps  enable  us  to  save 
all." 

"Perhaps,  sir." 

"But,  hang  the  thieves,  they'll  get  the  insurance  money 
then,"  growled  the  skipper. 

"Not  sure  yet,  your  honour,"  said  Nat;  "let's  make 
ourselves  sure  first,  and  then  have  a  turn  at  the  rotten  old 
hull  again." 

"  How's  the  well  ?" 

"Mortal  bad" 

"  So  I  feared ;  so  look  to  your  raft  as  smart  as  you 
like." 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

THE   HARKAWAYS  AT   HOME OLD  JACK*S   TROUBLE — THE  VISIT 

FROM  OVER  THE  SEA — AN  UNLUCKY  POSTMAN — YOUNG  JACK 
HARKAWAY'S  LAST  WORDS. 

WE  will  now  return  for  a  short  time  to  our  old  friends 
at  home. 

Matters  went  badly  with  the  Harkaways. 

When  we  say  the  Harkaways,  we  mean  the  family 
ashore,  and  not  the  son  and  heir  of  the  house,  whom  we 
left  afloat  in  a  coffin-ship. 

Not  a  word  of  information  could  old  Jack  or  his  friends 
glean  to  give  them  a  hope  for  their  darling  boy's  safety. 

"I  have  behaved  like  a  fool,  Dick,  for  allowing  my 
bold  boy  to  go  in  that  coffin-ship,"  he  would  say  again 
and  again  to  his  faithful  old  friend  and  companion, 
Harvey. 

And  it  was  in  vain  that  Dick  Harvey  essayed  to  con- 
dole with,  and  comfort  him. 

"You  are  too  hard  upon  yourself,  Jack,"  Dick  returned, 
firmly.  "You  acted  upon  cool  judgment,  and  if  you 
have  been  deceived,  the  fault  is  certainly  not  yours." 

Harkaway  and  his  friend  Dick  had  just  finished  their 


walk  and  cigar,  when  they  were  met  at  the  door  of  the 
house  by  Mrs.  Harkaway. 

' '  Oh,  Jack,  look  at  this  !  "  she  said,  pointing  to  a  para- 
graph in  the  newspaper  she  held. 

"  I'll  come  in  and  read  it,"  said  old  Jack  ;  "there's  no 
urgent  reason  for  reading  it  in  the  street,  my  dear,  I 
suppose." 

"  It  is  not  a  matter  for  smiling  at,  Jack,"  she  returned. 

Impressed  by  her  manner,  Harkaway  took  the  paper, 
and  ran  his  eyes  down  the  paragraph  indicated. 

It  was  headed  thus — 

"  MISSING  SHIPS. 

"The  'Albatross'  has  not  been  heard  of  since  she 
sailed,  on  the  I3th  inst.  This  vessel  has  lately  passed 
into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Murray,  whose  bad  fortune  with 
his  vessels  has  been  a  general  theme  for  gossip  of  late  in 
the  shipping  world.  Strange  rumours  have  been  circulat- 
ing about  her.  The  owner,  however,  was  fully  insured. " 

The  paper  fell  from  old  Jack's  hand. 

"Fully  insured  !  "  he  gasped.      "It  is  impossible  ! " 

"It  must  be  another  vessel  of  the  same  name,"  said 
Harvey.  "  I  know  Murray  told  us  that  his  vessels  were 
so  good  he  never  insured. " 

' '  Look  here,  Jack, "  said  Mrs.  Harkaway,  with  a  start- 
ling voice  ;  "  Murray  has  played  us  false,  and  I  fear  our 
poor  boy  is  in  sore  peril.  Oh,  husband,  where's  our 
Jack?"  ' 

At  this  juncture  a  newsboy  went  past  with  a  flaming 
placard  in  his  hand. 

"  Fearful  shipwreck  and  loss  of  life  !  All  hands  per- 
ished !  Full  and  particular  account — price " 

"Emily!" 

Harkaway  just  turned  round  in  time  to  catch  her  as  she 
fell  in  a  death-like  swoon  into  his  arms. 

The  strain  on  young  Jack's  mother's  nerves  was  too 
great — she  had  fainted. 

Some  few  days  after  the  above  events,  a  sailor  came 
to  the  house  to  inquire  for  old  Jack,  and  the  latter,  who 
was  seated  smoking  a  pipe  with  Harvey  and  Mr.  Mole, 
gave  orders  to  have  the  sailor  admitted. 

'*  You  want  me,"  said  old  Jack  with  a  look  of  surprise. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  133 

"We  picked  up  a  bottle,  yer  honour,"  said  the  tar,  "  and 
inside  we  found  a  letter  that  was  directed  to  you,  so  as 
soon  as  we  got  within  sight  of  land,  the  captain  sent  me 
ashore  with  it.  I  made  inquiries,  and " 

"  Where's  the  bottle?" 

"Here." 

From  the  cracked  bottle  he  drew  forth  a  letter,  and 
handed  it  to  Harkaway. 

Mole  looked  at  Dick,  and  Dick  looked  at  Jack, 

The  latter  had  grown  as  pale  as  a  sheet 

"Take  something  to  drink,  shipmate,"  said  Harvey  to 
the  sailor;  "there's  brandy  in  that  bottle;  serve  your- 
self." 

Old  Jack  tore  the  letter  open. 

"Stop  a  bit,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  jumping  up  and  clapping 
his  hand  over  the  letter ;  "just  take  a  suck  at  the  bottle 
first." 

Old  Jack  took  a  stiff  glass  of  branay,  and  read. 

"Ha!" 

The  paper  fell  from  his  hands,  and  he  sank  back  with 
a  groan  of  anguish. 

"Jack,"  cried  poor  Harvey,  springing  forward,  and 
catching  his  old  comrade  in  his  arms,  "Jack,  old  friend, 
don't — don't  take  on  so.  What  is  it  ?  " 

But  Harkaway  could  not  answer. 

Dick  picked  up  the  letter  and  read. 

This  was  young  Jack's  letter,  which  he  had  committed 
to  the  waves  in  a  time  of  deadly  peril. 

"Mr  DEAR  FATHER  AND  MOTHER, — The  'Albatross'  is 
what  they  call  a  coffin-ship,  and  we  are  near  the  end  of 
a  precious  hard  fight  for  life.  Forgive  your  poor  Jack  for 
being  so  pig-headed  as  to  insist  upon  leaving  you,  and 
don't  waste  time  in  regretting  and  mourning  after  Harry 
and  I ;  but  seek  out  that  old  Murray,  and  that  hypocritical 
Captain  Robinson.  Take  one  each,  dad,  you  and  Uncle 
Dick,  and  give  them  a  thundering  good  larrupping,  and 
when  you  have  knocked  them  both  into  a  good  jelly,  seek 
out  some  influential  man  in  the  Great  Talking  House,  and 
get  him  to  lift  his  voice  to  get  this  scandalous  state  of 
things  reformed.  Here  we  are,  I  cannot  tell  you  how 
many  of  us  passengers  and  crew,  all  sent  afloat  in  a  rotten 
old  tub,  painted  and  caulked  up  spruce,  and  puffed  up  to 


134  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

impose  upon  poor,  ignorant  fools.  Now,  we're  not  gone 
yet,  but  it  looks  unpleasantly  like  going,  and  so  in  case 
the  law  can't  reach  these  dealers  in  human  life,  I  leave 
them  to  you  and  to  Uncle  Dick.  I  hope  to  come  back  yet, 
and  so  does  Harry,  who  sends  his  love  to  all,  if  we  don't 
Good-bye,  perhaps  for  ever,  dear  father  and  mother. 

"JACK." 

Young  Jack's  letter  was  finished  rather  abruptly. 

His  father  guessed  that  some  calamity  had  overtaken 
the  ship. 

But  it  was  not  so. 

The  simple  reason  was  that  he  and  Harry  had  been 
summoned  by  an  alarm  to  the  deck,  and  fearing  that  they 
might  not  have  another  chance  of  posting  their  missive, 
it  was  placed  in  its  bottle  and  dropped  overboard. 


When  they  had  finished  reading  the  letter,  Mr.  Mole 
was  observed  to  grow  very  fidgety  and  red  in  the  face. 

He  stumped  up  and  down  the  room,  thrusting  his  hands 
viciously  into  his  pockets,  and  dragging  them  out  again 
— and  then  cracking  his  knuckles  with  small  reports,  like 
Barcelonas  going  pop ! 

"I  don't  feel  very  well,  Jack,"  he  said,  blowing  his 
nose  hard  to  disguise  his  emotion  ;  "  I — I — in  fact  I  shall 
go  for  a  walk — good-night,  I  mean  morning,  I — I'm  going 
to  bed  at  once." 

And  with  this  somewhat  confused  valediction,  Mr. 
Mole  glided  quickly  out  of  the  room. 

Jack  stared  at  Dick,  Dick  stared  at  Jack. 

"What's  the  matter  with  poor  old  Mole?"  said 
Harvey. 

Old  Jack  shook  his  head  and  tapped  his  forehead 
significantly. 

"Going.     Yes?" 

"So  I  think." 

"I  think  that  this  dreadful  news  has  done  it  for  the  poor 
old  fellow  ;  he  was  so  fond  of  Jack." 

"I  verily  believe,"  said  old  Jack,  wrestling  with  his 
grief,  "  I  verily  believe  he  would  give  every  farthing  he 
has  in  the  world  for  those  two  wild  boys  to  be  here  and 
play  off  their  cruel  practical  jokes  at  his  expense." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  135 

"  I  am  sure  he  would,"  said  Dick. 

The  conversation  flagged  now  for  several  minutes. 

"Jack." 

"Dick." 

"  The  boys  have  left  us  a  legacy  to  punish  the  villains 
Murray  and  Robinson." 

"I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  Harkaway,  "you  shall  take 
charge  of  old  Murray,  and  I'll  look  after  the  welfare  of 
jovial  Captain  Robinson." 

"Agreed." 

The  two  friends  grasped  hands  in  silence. 

Thus  the  compact  was  sealed,  and  now  woe  betide 
jovial  Captain  Robinson  and  the  ship-owner,  whenever 
Harkaway  or  Dick  Harvey  should  come  across  them. 

"Jack,"  said  Harvey,  coolly,  "you  brought  home 
from  Australia  with  you,  a  short-handled  stock-whip,  with 
a  thick  leather  thong  ? " 

Old  Jack  started. 

"You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  will  use  that  on  the 
villain  ?  " 

"That's  just  exactly  what  I  do  mean, "said  Harvey. 

"  It  shall  be  at  your  service,  Dick." 

So  Harkaway  went  for  the  stock-whip. 

If  Mr.  Murray  could  but  have  overheard  the  conversa- 
tion, he  would  not  have  felt  very  easy  in  his  mind. 

Altogether  matters  looked  rather  ugly  for  him. 


CHAPTER  XXVIL 

ARTFUL    MOLE — MOLE    THE    EXECUTOR HIS    SINGULAR   PRESENT 

FOR  MR.    MURRAY — A  NOVEL  DUEL — SHARP  WORK MR.  MURRAY 

TASTES  THE  BITTERS   OF   HIS  PROFESSION. 

ISAAC  MOLE  went  to  his  room  and  got  out  a  pistol  case. 
He  was  engaged  in  loading  his  six-shooter  when  his 
wife  crept  into  the  room. 

"Evins  an'  erf,  Ikey  !  "  she  ejaculated  aghast,  "what 
you  doing  thar  ?  " 

Mr.  Mole  looked  up  a  bit  startled,  but  went  on  loading 
the  revolver. 


136  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Ask  no  questions,  my  dear,"  he  answered,  "but  fetch 
me  my  walking  stick." 

Chloe,  considerably  flurried,  hastened  to  obey  her  lord 
and  master. 

"  Which  walking  stick  ?  " 

Mr.  Mole  paused  to  reflect. 

It  was  a  weighty  matter,  and  demanded  reflection,  for 
he  had  a  regular  collection  of  walking  canes,  and  it  was 
necessary  for  his  purpose  to  get  a  good  pliable  stick. 

"  Let  it  be  the  Malacca  cane,  with  the  gold  top,"  he 
said. 

She  returned  with  it  in  a  few  moments. 

"  Where  you  goin'  to,  Ikey?"  she  demanded. 

"That,  my  dear,  concerns  me  alone,"  replied  Mr. 
Mole.  "  Have  the  goodness,  for  once  in  your  life,  to  re- 
press your  curiosity." 

"  Bress  my  art !  "  began  the  dark  lady. 

"  Repress  your  curiosity,"  said  Mr.  Mole  again,  "for 
I  haven't  the  remotest  intention  of  telling  you  where  I 
am  going,  or  what  for." 

"But,  Ikey " 

"  Good-bye,  for  the  present,  my  dear ;  I  shall  in  all 
probability  return  for  dinner." 

"I  say,  now,  Ikey " 

But  he  was  gone. 

And  very  soon  was  knocking  at  Mr.  Murray's  door. 

"Mr.  Murray." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Take  my  card,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  "and  my  compli- 
ments. I  should  like  to  have  a  word  with  him." 

The  maid  servant  went  to  her  master,  but  shortly  re- 
turned to  say,  that  Mr.  Murray  was  very  particularly  en- 
gaged just  then,  and  would  accept  an  appointment  for 
another  time,  if  Mr.  Mole  could  conveniently  defer  his 
business. 

" That  is  precisely  what  I  can't  do,"  returned  the  old 
gentleman.  "  Will  you  go  back  to  Mr.  Murray,  there- 
fore and  tell  him  that  I  have  something  for  him  ?  " 

Back  went  the  girl,  and  returned  in  a  few  moments. 

"  Master's  compliments,  sir,  and  if  you  would  send  it 
in  by  me,  he  would  take  it  as  a  favour." 

Mr.  Mole  smiled. 

An  odd  smile  it  was — yet  still  a  smile — of  a  kind. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  137 

-•I  can't, "  he  said,  shaking  his  gold-headed  Malacca  cane 
nervously  as  he  spoke.  "I  must  hand  it  Mr.  Murray 
personally." 

This  carried  the  day. 

Mr.  Mole  was  ushered  into  the  shipowner's  presence 
forthwith. 

Mr.  Murray  sat  in  an  armchair,  before  an  office  table, 
which  was  covered  with  business  books  and  papers. 

He  looked  up,  and  rose  as  Mr.  Mole  entered. 

But  Mr.  Mole  had  his  back  turned.  He  was  apparently 
engaged  in  shutting  the  door  after  the  servant. 

Mr.  Murray  did  not  observe  that  his  visitor  not  only 
shut  the  door  but  also  locked  it,  and  pocketed  the  key. 

" Good-morning,  Mr.  Mole,"  said  the  shipowner; 
"  you  will  excuse  my  refusal  to  see  you  at  first,  sir,  but  I 
have  been  ill  for  some  considerable  time,  and  the  accumu- 
lation of  business  matters  during  that  time  has  driven  me 
into  a  corner.  I  cannot  get  the  arrears  of  work  under 
at  all. " 

"  I  shall  not  detain  you  long,"  returned  Mr.  Mole. 

"Take  a  seat,  sir." 

Mr.  Mole  declined. 

"What  I  have  to  do  is  best  done  standing." 

"My  servant  informs  me  you  have  brought  something 
for  me  ?  "  said  the  shipowner. 

"Quite  right." 

"I  am  much  beholden  to  you  for  the  pains  you  have 
taken,"  said  Mr.  Murray. 

Mr.  Mole  smiled. 

' '  I  have  taken  no  pains,  Mr.  Murray, "  he  answered  ; 
"it  is  you  who  will  have  to  take  the  pains." 

"What  is  it  you  have  brought  for  me,  may  I  ask ?  '' 

Mr.  Mole  held  up  the  gold-headed  Malacca. 

"This!" 

"Excuse  me,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Murray,  in  his  blandest 
tone,  "but  I  don't  quite  see,  even  now " 

"Don't  you?"  said  Mr.   Mole,  "then  I  will  explain." 

He  drew  a  step  nearer  to  the  shipowner. 

The  latter  shrank  back  instinctively. 

"I  am.  as  you  are  doubtless  aware,  the  personal  friend 
of  Mr.  Harkaway,  and  was  tutor  of  his  son,  who  has 
gone  a  voyage  in  the  'Albatross.'" 

Mr.  Murray  winced. 


138  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"A  fine  ship,  the  'Albatross/  sir,  A  i  at  Lloyds,'  I  be- 
lieve. " 

"  Yes,  sir,"  returned  Mr.  Murray,  in  an  unsteady  voice. 

"Of  course,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  in  the  same  strain,  "a 
gallant  craft,  and  you  are  a, happy  man  to  possess  such 
a  vessel." 

Mr.  Murray  could  not  stand  this. 

"You  will  excuse  the  question,"  he  said  in  a  hard 
voice  that  had  no  ring  in  it,  "but  is  this  the  object  of  your 
visit,  sir  ? " 

'Patience,  Mr.  Murray,  patience,  and  you  will  learn." 

'  I  must  really " 

'No,  you  mustn't  !  "  interrupted  Mole. 

'Really,  I " 

'Sir,"  quoth  Mr.  Mole  emphatically,  and  banging  down 
the  gold-headed  Malacca  cane  between  each  word,  on 
the  shipowner's  writing-table,  as  if  to  give  extra  force  to 
his  speech,  "  I  must  tell  my  business  in  my  own  way. 
I  say,  then,  that  the  'Albatross'  is  a  noble  craft — 'noble 
craft ! '  is  the  word  I  believe — so  expressive — so  romantic 
— so  jolly  Jack  Tar-ish  ! — not  a  bit  of  a  coffin-ship  !  " 

The  shipowner  started  back. 

"  How  dare  you  !  "  he  began.  "  How  dare  you  come 
here?" 

"I  came  to  bring  you  a  present,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  as 
cool  as  ever.  "  The  noble  craft  has  gone  to  the  bottom 
— the  gallant  '  Albatross '  is  lying  in  goodness  knows  how 
many  fathoms,  or  exactly  where,  but  from  all  report,  not 
a  long  way  from  the  Bay  of  Biscay. " 

Mr.  Murray  poured  out  a  tumbler  of  water,  and  drank 
it  off. 

The  interview  grew  warm,  and  he  was  silent. 

"My  murdered  boy — stand  still  and  hear  me  out," 
added  Mole,  sternly,  "or  by  the  Lord  Harry  I'll  make 
an  example  of  you  !  My  murdered  boy,  I  say — the  brave 
young  Jack  found  time  as  the  '  Albatross'  was  going 
down,  to  write  a  letter — his  will  I  may  call  it — telling  all 
he  knew,  all  he  had  learnt  on  board  since  sailing,  and  as 
he  was  dropping  into  the  watery  grave  to  which  you 
consigned  him " 

"Sir!" 

"  He  had  learnt,  too  late,  alas  !  the  exact  nature  of  the 
trade  which  you  pursue." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  139 

"  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean." 

"  You  soon  will. " 

Mr.  Murray  detected  something  in  old  Mole's  voice 
which  raised  dire  misgivings. 

So  he  stretched  out  his  hand  to  reach  the  bell-rope. 
But  before  he  could  accomplish  his  purpose,  Mr.  Mole 
hopped  over  and  brought  down  the  gold-headed  Malacca 
a  very  smart  rap  on  his  knuckles. 

"Oh!" 

"Standstill." 

Mr.  Murray  bridled  up  at  this,  and  stepped  forth. 

While  only  menaced  with  scandal,  he  was  filled  with 
the  greatest  fear. 

But  now  that  the  visitor  grew  more  demonstrative  yet, 
his  sensations  changed. 

He  was  not  to  say  physically  a  coward. 

Moreover,  Isaac  Mole  with  his  venerable  appearance, 
and  his  two  wooden  legs,  did  not  look  a  very  formidable 
antagonist 

"If  you  don't  instantly  quit  my  house,"  he  said,  shak- 
ing his  fist  at  the  visitor,  "I  shall  put  you  out  of  the 
window." 

"Oh,  you  will?" 

"I  will." 

Mole  smiled. 

"  That  is  something  better, "  he  said  quietly;  "up  till 
now,  you  have  shown  that  you  are  only  possessed  of  the 
assassin's  brutal  instincts  without  having  any  thing  of 
such  kind  of  courage  as  many  of  the  worst  murderers  are 
known  to  possess." 

"Scoundrel!" 

"It  is,  at  any  rate,"  pursued  Mr.  Mole,  who  declined 
to  be  flurried  under  any  pretext  whatever,  "it  is  at  any 
rate  refreshing  to  find  you  have  a  dash  of  something  like 
a  man  in  you  for  Jack's  present — this  is  old  Jack's 
present,"  he  added,  giving  the  walking  stick  a  parenthet- 
ical flourish ;  "  it  is  an  honest  good  cane,  and  I  should 
not  like  to  dirty  it  by  contact  with  any  thing  so  utterly 
degraded  as  I  feared  you  would  prove." 

Mr.  Murray  grew  livid. 

"You,  you " 

"Gently,  gently,"  said  Mr.  Mole,  "and  I'll  prove  my- 
self your  best  friend. " 


140  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  Infamous  old  ruffian,"  cried  Mr.   Murray. 

"Thank  you,  I'll  prove  it.  Jack's  legacy  was  to  have 
been  brought  by  his  father ;  I  wanted  the  office  for  two 
reasons  :  first,  because  I  looked  upon  it  as  my  privilege 
and  my  right ;  secondly,  I  want  you  to  have  half  a 
chance — we  are  both  old  men,  and  in  addition  I  am  a 
cripple,  as  you  see ;  now  that  equalises  matters,  but  if 
Mr.  Harkaway  had  brought  you  his  son's  legacy,  you 
would  never  have  crossed  that  threshold  alive  !  " 

"So,"  said  Mr.  Murray,  very  white  yet  very  deter- 
mined, "assassination  is  your  intention." 

"  No,  punishment  only,"  responded  Mole. 

"Oh!" 

"  Your  villany  may  not  prove  get-at-able  by  law — may 
not,  I  say — we  have  to  try  that  yet.  So  for  fear  of  a  mis- 
carriage of  justice,  I  am  here  to  fulfil  my  dear,  murdered 
boy's  dying  injunctions,  and  believe  me,  Mr.  Murray," 
added  the  old  gentleman  with  an  odd  mixture  of  satire 
and  pathetic  earnestness  as  he  held  out  the  cane,  "the 
finest  advocate  in  the  world  could  never  wheedle  Jack's 
legacy  into  believing  you  were  guiltless." 

':  You  are  mad  !  " 

Mr.  Mole  turned  up  his  wristband. 

"We  are  wasting  time." 

"Leave  the  house!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Murray,  ;*orril 
have  you  dragged  off  to  gaol " 

He  slipped  to  the  door  and  turned  the  handle. 

It  was  fast. 

"  Locked  !  " 

"As  you  see,  my  dear  sir,"  responded  Mole,  quite 
pleasantly. 

"Where's  the  key?" 

"I  have  got  it" 

"  Give  it  up  or * 

He  made  one  stride  up  to  Mole,  who  raised  the 
cane. 

Down  it  came,  cutting  the  air  with  the  most  vicious 
music,  and  it  left  its  mark  across  the  shipowner's  forehead 
and  face. 

Staggered  for  a  moment,  Mr.  Murray  made  a  rush  at 
his  assailant. 

But  the  old  gentleman,  as  cool  as  a  cucumber  still, 
whirled  round  upon  one  of  hte  wooden  le»^  and 


ff/S  SOy  TINKER.  1 4 1 

Murray  by  the  coat  collar  with  the  left  hand,  while  with 
the  right  he  banged  away  at  his  shoulders  and  back. 

A  dozen  strokes  were  put  in  thus  with  such  vigour  and 
rapidity,  that  Mr.  Murray  was  fain  to  wriggle  himself 
free,  and  stagger  across  the  room. 

But  Isaac  Mole  would  not  be  denied. 

He  stumped  after  his  man  as  fast  as  he  could,  and 
dropped  in  another  or  two  wherever  he  could. 

One  smart  cut  across  the  face  brought  blood,  and  the 
shipowner,  in  the  space  of  a  minute,  presented  a  very 
alarming  aspect. 

But  Mr.  Mole  never  paused  to  consider  this. 

Murray  was  now  getting  very  badly  punished,  and  it 
was  necessary  to  take  a  serious  step. 

He  took  it. 

Feinting  to  dart  to  the  door,  he  made  a  sudden  rush  at 
his  writing  table,  and  dragged  open  one  of  the  drawers. 

Mole  was  after  him. 

Only  the  table  between  them,  and  he  saw  what  it  was 
that  the  shipowner  was  after. 

He  saw  his  hand  upon  a  pistol,  and  so  he  whipped  out 
his  own  revolver,  and  stretching  over  the  table,  he  thrust 
it  in  Mr.  Murray's  face. 

"Put  down  that  pistol,"  he  said,  in  low,  earnest  tones  ; 
"put  it  down  or  I'll  blow  you  to  atoms." 

Mr.  Murray  paused. 

"  Put  it  down,  I  say,"  replied  Mole  ;  "  in  three  seconds 
you  are  a  dead  man  else — hah  !  " 

The  shipowner  cowered  before  that  revolver. 

Death  was  unpleasantly  near,  and  few  men  can  face  it 
in  such  proximity  <vith  any  thing  like  calmness. 

He  dropped  the  pistol. 

"  Shut  the  drawer, "  said  Mole  sternly.  "If  you  use 
firearms,  so  shall  I,  and  I  have  first  shot.  I  provided 
against  such  an  emergency  as  this." 

"Assassin  !  "  gasped  the  shipowner. 

"Not  I,"  returned  Mole,  "I  am  poor  young  Jack's  ex- 
ecutor, nothing  more.  Lock  the  drawer — throw  over  the 
key,  do  you  hear  ? " 

With  a  scowl  of  undying  hate  the  shipowner  complied 
reluctantly. 

"Now  I  put  by  my  pistol,"  said  Mole,  suiting  the 
action  to  the  word,  "  and  we  resume  the  thrashing." 


1 42  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

He  walked  around  the  table  after  his  man. 

Mr.  Murray  waited  a  little. 

Then  he  shot  away. 

Mole  stumped  after  him. 

Murray  looked  about  him  anxiously. 

Then  his  glance  resting  upon  the  fireplace,  he  dodged 
a  vicious  cut  which  Mole  aimed  at  him,  and  pounced 
upon  the  poker. 

"  Now,  you  old  vagabond  !  "  he  said,  or  rather  hissed 
serpent  fashion,  "we  are  equal." 

"Not  quite,"  said  Mole,  "you  have  a  bit  of  the  ad* 
vantage;  no  matter." 

It  was  truly  a  most  extraordinary  sight. 

Two  men,  well  on  in  years,  one  with  a  pair  of  wooden 
legs,  facing  each  other,  armed  with  weapons  of  a  more 
or  less  offensive  description.  It  looked  awkward  for 
Mole. 

Very. 

A  poker  against  a  walking-cane  was  no  fair  match. 

Mole  had  his  revolver  to  the  good,  it  is  true,  but  he 
would  not  use  it. 

Moreover,  the  shipowner  felt  assured  that  he  had  to  do 
with  a  man  of  his  word. 

So  his  courage  rose  as  he  advanced  to  meet  his  wooden- 
legged  adversary. 

"  You  shall  suffer  now,  you  villanous  old  ruffian  !  "  he 
exclaimed. 

"  Indeed  !  "  replied  Mr.  Mole,  coolly. 

The  old  gentleman  kept  a  sharp  look-out,  and  just  as 
the  shipowner  drew  back  to  deal  him  a  desperate  blow 
with  the  poker,  Mr.  Mole  dropped  in  such  a  stinger  upon 
Murray's  hand  that  the  poker  fell  from  his  grasp,  and  the 
knuckles  were  cut  open. 

' '  Now  for  it. " 

Mole  pounced  upon  his  man,  and  showered  down  such 
a  succession  of  blows,  that  Murray,  stunned,  confused, 
and  pounded  into  a  jelly,  could  not  offer  the  feeblest 
resistance. 

"Take  that,"  cried  the  infuriated  Mole,  pounding 
away  vigorously,  "and  that — and  that,  and  I  wish  I 
had  more  wind  left  in  me  to — stay,  here's  one  more  for 
poor  Harry  Girdwood." 

It  was  but  one. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  143 

But  such  a  one. 

It  seemed  to  lay  the  unhappy's  man's  back  bare. 

"And  now,"  said  Isaac  Mole,  readjusting  his  disordered 
dress,  "  I'll  go  home  to  dinner." 

"You'll  suffer  for  this,"  groaned  the  shipowner. 

"That's  doubtful,"  returned  Mole;  "but  there  is  no 
doubt  in  life  that  you  will.  Let  me  give  you  a  word  of 
advice.  Keep  clear  of  Mr.  Harkaway ;  I  have  been 
merciful. " 

Murray  groaned. 

"But  he  will  have  no  mercy  on  his  son's  destroyer. 
Keep  yourself  under  lock  and  key.  Do  you  hear  ?  For 
once  let  John  Harkaway  or  Richard  Harvey  get  within 
arm's  length  of  you,  and  Heaven  have  mercy  upon  your 
miserable  carcase.  They  are  both  young  and  vigorous 
men,  not  miserable  old  cripples,  like  yours  obediently, 
Isaac  Mole." 

He  fished  out  the  key  and  opened  the  door. 

"Don't  you  think  to  escape  like  that,"  moaned  the 
shipowner,  crawling  to  the  bell. 

"Nor  you  either,"  returned  Mole,  turning  round,  "  for 
we  mean  to  have  the  very  best  law  that  is  to  be  bought 
for  money,  to  pepper  you  with,  and  we'll  see  if  you 
haven't  a  part  more  vulnerable  than  your  body.  I  mean 
your  pocket." 

He  went  out. 

But  as  he  closed  the  door,  an  idea  occurred  to  him,  and 
so  he  pushed  open  the  door  and  popped  in  his  head. 

"Your  accomplice,  Captain  Robinson,  has  turned 
king's  evidence,"  he  said. 

This  was  not  to  say  the  downright  truth,  as  you  know. 

Yet  it  served  for  a  parting  shot  at  Mr.  Murray. 

With  which,  Mr.  Mole  stumped  back  to  dinner,  happy 
in  his  mind  and  with  a  ravenous  appetite. 


/44  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

MR.    MURRAY'S     MISFORTUNES — THE     DOOR    CHAIN — ANOTHER 
VISITOR  FOILED — "LOOK  TO  IT,  FOR  I  AM  ON  THE  WATCH." 

MR.  MURRAY  arose  from  the  floor,  bruised  and  bleeding. 

Isaac  Mole  had  piled  it  on  pretty  stiffly,  and  his  arm 
fell  heavily. 

What  was  to  be  done  ? 

He  would  seek  assistance  in  the  town. 

It  would  be  better  for  him  to  have  a  sturdy  man  servant 
always  upon  the  premises,  so  that  if  any  of  the  Harkaway 
people  should  venture  again  to  intrude  upon  him,  he 
would  be  prepared  to  meet  violence  with  violence. 

Mr.  Murray  opened  the  door,  and  found  himself  face 
to  face  with  a  servant  maid. 

"Jane!" 

"Yes,"  said  the  girl.      "Are  you  ill  again,  sir?  " 

"No." 

"  I  thought  I  heard  you  call  out,  sir." 

Mr.  Murray  stammered  out  something  confusedly,  and 
grew  very  flushed  in  the  face. 

"No,  no,  Jane,  I  am  well  enough — that  is,  better — I  am 
better,  Jane,  only  pay  attention  to  me,  Jane." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"If  anyone  comes  to  ask  for  me,  don't  admit  them 
until  I  have  given  you  orders." 

"No,  sir,  I'll  show  them  into  the  parlour,  and  say  I'll 
see  if  you  are  visible  or  not,  sir." 

"No,  no,  no!"  exclaimed  the  shipowner,  eagerly, 
"you  are  wrong,  Jane  ;  that  is  precisely  what  you  must 
not  do,  Jane. " 

"What  then,  sir?" 

"  Keep  the  chain  up  always." 

"That's  odd,  sir." 

"  Hold  your  tongue  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Murray  testily, 
"and  make  no  reflections  upon  the  orders  I  give  you. 
Keep  the  chain  up." 

"Lor',  yes,  sir!  " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  145 

"So  that  you  can  always  keep  anybody  out  if  you  don't 
choose  to  admit  them.  Once  for  all,  attend  to  that,  for 
I  don't  choose  to  have  a  parcel  of  insolent  beggars 
forcing  their  way  in  and  insulting  me  in  my  own 
house." 

"  I  shall  know  that  wicked  old  sinner  ag'in,  sir,"  pur- 
sued Jane,  mentally  denouncing  poor  old  Mole;  "he's 
got  nothing  out  of  you,  I  suppose,  so  most  likely  he'll  try 
on  the  seaman  who  was  blown  up,  or  the  respectable 
mechanic  who  was  whirled  up  on  a  saw-mill,  or,  in  fact, 
anything  just  to  change  his  luck  when  he  has  his  next 
turn  ;  though,  I'll  bet  you've  rayther  troubled  him  for 
one  while,  by  the  way  you  have  given  it  to  him  this 
time,  and — bless  me  !  " 

"  What  is  it  ?  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Murray,  with  a  start 

"You've  tore  your  coat." 

"Bah  !  what  of  that!" 

"  Nothing  much,  for  you  can  get  lots  more ;  only  it's  a 
pity  to  waste  good  clothing  over  such  a  old  villain  as  that 
was  ;  that's  all  I  think,  sir,  and — oh,  Lor' !  " 

"What  now  ?" 

"You've  got  a  bruise  on  your  face,  sir." 

"  Hold  your  tongue.  Bear  in  mind  what  I  have  told 
you  about  that  door-chain." 

Saying  which,  Mr.  Murray  turned  back  into  the  room, 
and  slammed-to  the  door. 

Mr.  Murray  surveyed  himself  in  a  glass. 

Unpleasant  reflection  in  two  senses  of  the  expression. 

His  face  was  bruised. 

His  coat  was  torn. 

Moreover,  his  general  appearance  was  disordered,  as 
well  it  might  be  by  the  violence  of  the  late  encounter. 

Mr.  Murray  renovated  himself  at  once. 

A  touch  with  the  comb,  a  charge  of  garments,  and  a 
little  vinous  stimulant  steadied  his  nerves  a  bit. 

"The  first  thing  will  be  to  get  round  to  Harris,  and 
make  him  provide  me  with  a  good  big  fellow  as  a  body- 
guard." 

He  was  about  to  remove  the  chain  and  go  forth,  when 
a  knock  came  at  the  door  that  made  him  jump. 

A  rat-tat-tat ! 

Mr.  Murray  started  back  as  the  tall  figure  of  a  man 
stood  in  the  doorway. 
10 


1 46  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

He  recognized  him,  too,  immediately. 

Harvey  ! 

Yes,  Dick  Harvey  was  prompt  to  perform  his  part  of 
his  contract  with  old  Jack. 

Little  did  he  suppose  that  he  had  been  forestalled. 

How  could  he  or  anyone,  in  fact,  expect  Isaac  Mole  to 
turn  champion  ? 

Dick  had  been  engrossed  in  thought  after  knocking,  or 
he  would  have  perceived  that  the  door  was  open. 

He  gave  it  a  push,  but  the  chain  held  it  fast. 

"Hallo!" 

Dick  thrust  his  head  in,  and  looked  round,  to  find  him- 
self face  to  face  with  the  very  man  he  had  come  to  see. 

"Mr.  Murray*1' 

"I'm  out,"  exclaimed  the  shipowner ;  "I'm  not  well, 
and  I  can't  see  anybody." 

"I'll  not  detain  you  long,"  said  Dick,  coaxingly. 

"  No,  no  ;  of  course  not." 

"One  word." 

"What  is  it?" 

"Let  down  the  chain,"  said  Dick. 

"  Impossible  ;  it  will  not  come  undone." 

This  exasperated  Dick,  who  lost  his  coolness. 

"  You  lying  old  villain.     Can't  face  me,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"Be  off." 

"You  know  what  I  come  for." 

"I  do,"  retorted  Murray;  "and  if  you  are  not  off,  I 
will  call  a  policeman  and  have  you  given  in  custody." 

"  I'll  wait, "  said  artful  Dick,  "if  you  like  to  come  out 
and  make  the  charge." 

"Not  I,"  returned  the  shipowner;  "  I'll  watch  until  a 
policeman  passes,  and  give  orders,  that's  what  I'll  do." 

This  would  not  suit  Dick. 

"Very  well,  Mr.  Murray,"  he  said,  "very  well.  Since 
that  is  your  notion,  I  can  afford  to  wait  my  opportunity." 

"Wait  then — wait,"  retorted  the  shipowner  "and  let 
me  caution  you.  I  mean  to  invoke  the  law." 

"  You  dare  not,"  said  Dick,  "you  dare  not,  and  you 
know  it.  What  you  say  is  mere  idle  brag.  Hark  you, 
old  man.  If  there  is  any  justice  in  Providence,  you  will 
have  to  go  afloat  in  a  coffin  ship  yourself,  and  go  down 
with  it — experience  yourself,  the  horrors  of  drowning. 
When  I  hear  that  that  has  been  your  fate,  I  can  perhaps 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  i 47 

forgive  you.     But  while  you  are  on  dry  land,  look  to  your 
miserable  self.     I  am  on  the  watch." 


"  A  telegram  for  you,  sir,"  said  the  maid-servant,  en- 
tering the  shipowner's  room. 

"How  you  startled  me,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Murray; 
"there,  that'll  do." 

He  tore  open  the  telegram,  and  read  it  down. 

His  face  turned  ashy  pale,  and  he  gasped  at  the  sight 
of  that  paper. 

And  yet  the  news  it  brought  was  the  most  welcome 
news  that  he  could  possibly  have  desired. 

"  Here  is  that  which  would  gladden  the  hearts  of  those 
Harkavvay  people  if  I  took  it  to  them.  But  no  ;  let  them 
pine  and  languish  in  bitterness  of  spirit  as  I  have  done. 
That  will  teach  them  not  to  try  on  their  villany  again. 
The  assassins  ?  No  man  ever  yet  affronted  me  with  im- 
punity. I'll  keep  it  to  myself,  and  I'll  be  off  at  once — 
aye,  this  very  night,  if  I  can  get  away  from  this  port. " 

The  news  contained  in  that  telegram  would  indeed 
have  gladdened  the  Harkaways. 

But  before  we  give  the  reader  the  information  upon  this 
head,  let  us  return  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  young  Jack 
and  his  comrade  Harry  Girdwood. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

THE  FATE  OF  THE  "  ALBATROSS  "  FOUNDERED  IN  FAIR  WEATHER 

"  MAN   THE  BOATS  " THE   ROLL   CALL THE  OWNER'S 

SON  AND  HIS  MAN A  POOR  ORPHAN  AND  THE  NEW  BREAK- 
FAST RELISH OVERBOARD. 

AND  did  the  wretched  old  "Albatross"  go  down? 

No. 

Thanks  to  the  admirable  seamanship  of  her  commander 
and  to  the  perseverance  and  undying  energy  of  the  crew, 
to  which  they  were  in  no  slight  degree  stimulated  by  the 
example  of  young  Harkaway  and  Harry  Girdwood,  the 
"  Albatross  "  weathered  the  gale. 

It  was  a  precious  near  squeak  with  her. 


1 48  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  AND 

They  ran  for  the  Spanish  coast,  and  once  they  had 
sighted  land,  they  never  ceased  firing  minute  guns,  and 
they  hoisted  signals  of  distress. 

They  fortunately  attracted  attention  pretty  soox.,  and 
assistance  was  promptly  rendered. 

The  passengers  and  crew  were  for  the  most  part  landed 
in  other  boats,  but  Captain  Deering  stuck  to  his  post,  as 
did  young  Jack. 

"Let  me  be  here  while  there's  one  plank  holding  to 
another,"  he  said;  "not  that  I  bear  the  worm-eaten  old 
hull  any  love,  only  she  mustn't  go  down  without  a  very 
big  effort.  I'll  see  her  in  port — aye,  in  dock,  and  have 
her  condemned  properly.  Let  the  owners  pay  the  piper 
now.  They  have  had  their  sport  with  her  and  a  lot  of 
brave  fellows  ;  the  owners  must  pay  for  all  the  work  they 
have  given  us,  and  all  the  fears  and  qualms  that  we  have 
gone  through — aye,  the  stoutest  hearts  on  board." 

We  leave  you  to  guess  how  this  speech  was  received. 

A  ringing  cheer  of  assent  greeted  it. 

And  the  men  within  earshot  gathered  round  the  skipper, 
more  eager  than  ever  to  save  the  "Albatross." 

They  did  it,  too. 

They  worked  her  into  a  Spanish  port,  and  then  they 
had  an  official  visit  and  examination  made,  the  result  of 
which  was  that  she  was  condemned  to  be  broken  up. 

All  this  was  not  without  its  effect  upon  young  Murray, 
who  insisted  on  being  landed  with  his  servant,  and  the 
ship  proceeding  on  her  journey. 

But  he  protested  in  vain. 

What  authority  had  he  in  the  matter? 

It  was  all  very  well  for  him  to  say  that  he  was  the  son 
of  the  owner,  but  he  had  shipped  in  an  assumed  name, 
and  although  it  was  pretty  generally  known  who  he  was, 
Captain  Deering  professed  to  doubt  his  story  in  toto. 

"You  see,"  said  the  skipper,  when  the  general  inquiry 
was  commenced  before  the  British  consul,  "  what  he  says 
may  or  may  not  be  true,  but  we  ain't  bound  to  believe  a 
young  fellow  who  on  his  own  showing  has  shipped  under 
false  colours." 

Young  Murray  used  violent  language  and  threatened 
everybody  concerned,  until  Captain  Deering  frightened 
this  style  of  conduct  out  of  him  by  a  hint  at  putting  him 
in  irons. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  149 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,  sir,"  said  Chivey.  "You  had  better 
telegraph  over  to  the  governor,  and  let  him  get  to  work, 
or  it'll  all  be  U  P  with  the  'Albatross,'  in  a  brace  of 
shakes. " 

"I  will." 

"Double  quick,  sir." 

"Right,  Chivey." 

He  telegraphed  accordingly,  and  then  he  felt  easier  in 
his  mind. 

A  letter  was  dispatched  after  his  telegram,  and  this  letter 
made  his  father  much  easier  in  his  mind,  knowing  now 
his  son  was  safe. 

It  lifted  a  weight  of  care  off  that  unscrupulous  man's 
mind. 

It  was  more  than  he  deserved,  to  be  thus  relieved,  all 
things  considered. 


Now  while  the  condemned  "Albatross"  lay  off  the 
harbour,  the  chief  care  of  the  captain  and  of  those  in  au- 
thority was  to  remove  the  cargo,  and  they  forgot  all  about 
the  pumps. 

The  consequence  of  this  may  be  imagined. 

One  night,  when  they  had  just  turned  in,  young  Jack, 
who  was  uncommonly  sleepy,  was  aroused  by  Harry 
Girdwood  with  a  very  uncomfortable  announcement 

"Hark,  hark,  Jack!" 

"What?" 

"The  sound  of  rushing  waters." 

"Listen  again." 

Jack  aroused  himself  with  a  bit  of  an  effort,  and  sure 
enough  he  did  catch  the  sound  of  rushing  water. 

"What  does  it  mean?  "  demanded  young  Jack. 

"Why,  I'll  tell  you  what,"  returned  Harry.  "The 
rushing  sound  of  waters  means  the  ship  'Albatross '  is 
going  down  to  her  grave." 

Young  Jack  sat  bolt  upright  in  his  berth  at  this. 

"I  believe  you're  right,  Harry.  The  coffin-ship  is- 
doomed,  but,  thank  the  Lord,  not  in  mid-ocean." 

He  glided  out  of  the  berth  and  slipped  on  his  trousers 
in  less  than  a  minute. 

"I'm  off  on  deck,  old  boy ;  come  along." 


150  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

And  suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  flew  up  the  com- 
panion ladder. 

Harry  Girdwood  was  not  slow  to  follow  on   deck. 

' '  Whose  watch  is  it  ?  "  demanded  Harry,  as  he  appeared 
on  deck. 

"Mackenzie's,  your  honour,"  was  the  reply. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  " 

"  Below." 

"  He's  a  fine  officer  to  set  an  example." 

The  rushing  sound  of  water  became  louder  and  louder. 

"  I'll  rouse  the  skipper,"  said  Jack. 

"  Right,  Jack  ;  be  quick." 

Young  Jack  soon  had  Captain  Deering  upon  deck. 

The  skipper  was  a  thorough  sailor,  and  he  took  in  the 
whole  situation  at  a  single  glance. 

"  Who  is  the  officer  of  the  watch  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"Mr.  Mackenzie,  sir,"  replied  a  sailor. 

"Where  is  he?" 

"Below." 

"Call  him  up." 

"  He  ain't  exactly  fit  to  come,  your  honour,"  was  the 
reply. 

"What?" 

"  He's  took  too  much  spirit  in  his  water,  your  honour." 

The  skipper  frowned. 

"I'll  make  an  example  of  Mackenzie." 

However  it  was  waste  of  time  and  of  words  to  take 
any  more  notice  about  him  just  then. 

"Pipe  all  hands." 

Nat  Cringle  came  up  now  and  made  his  way  to  the  side 
of  Captain  Deering  with  considerable  alacrity. 

"We  haven't  got  many  minutes,  your  honour,"  he  said, 
"before  the  'Albatross'  will  swallow  up  every  stick  and 
scrap  as  she  goes  down." 

"We  must  be  smart  then,"  cried  the  captain. 

"Aye,  aye,  sir." 

"  All  hands  to  the  boats." 

The  order  was  given. 

Now  the  "Albatross  "  was  well  manned  and  excellently 
ordered — far  better  than  such  a  rotten  old  hulk  ever  de- 
served to  be  ;  and  every  thing  was  got  about  with  the 
quiet  discipline  that  one  might  expect  to  observe  on  board 
a  man-of-war. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  151 

A  boat  was  lowered  and  filled  rapidly. 

"  Pull  ashore,"  cried  the  captain,  through  his  trumpet 
"  pull  smart,  and  two  of  you  bring  the  boat  back  at  racing 
pace  ;  we  may  want  you." 

"Aye,  aye,   sir." 

The  orders  were  given  promptly  enough. 

Captain  Deering  told  off  the  different  persons  to  the 
boats,  and  all  went  very  well  until  young  Murray  and 
his  man  Chivey,  who  were  anxiously  awaiting  the  calling 
out  of  their  names,  caused  some  confusion  by  pressing 
forward. 

For  there  were  still  a  score  or  more  of  passengers  on 
board. 

"Stand  back,"  exclaimed  the  skipper  sternly,  "or  you 
shall  remain  till  the  last  on  board  this  sinking  ship. 
Stand  back,  I  say. " 

"But,  captain "  began  Herbert  Murray. 

"Utter  a  word,  or  do  any  thing  to  impede  us  now,"  re- 
turned Captain  Deering,  "  and  I'll  have  you  thrown  over- 
board." 

"Oh,  what  a  orful  beast,"  said  Chivey. 

But  he  had  spoken  just  a  shade  too  loud,  and  it  was 
overheard  by  one  of  the  horny-fisted  tars,  who  gave  the 
tiger  what  he  called  an  admonisher,  but  what  Chivey 
designated  "aback  hander  on  the  smeller,  that  put  my 
two  peepers  into  mournin'." 

"Stand  back,  stand  back,"  cried  the  second  mate; 
"keep  the  gangway  clear." 

Mr.  Figgins,  who  had  been  awaiting  his  turn  with  what 
patience  he  could  muster,  anxiously  looked  round  at  them 
for  help. 

He  tried  to  quiet  himself  at  such  a  critical  moment, 
and  put  on  an  appearance  of  calm. 

He  nodded  at  the  skipper,  and  smiled  in  the  sickliest 
manner  imaginable,  and  tried  endless  artifices  to  call  the 
captain's  attention. 

But  no  use. 

No  one  took  any  notice  of  him. 

Captain  Deering  went  steadily  on,  calling  out  the 
names  one  after  the  other,  and  got  every  thing  much 
more  forward  by  his  quiet,  calm  manner  of  going  to 
work  than  any  excitement  or  bustle  could  possibly  have 
done. 


152  YOUNG  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AMD 

'•Ahem  ! "  said  Mr.  Figgins,  at  length,  "I  am  not  very 
well,  I  thank  you,  captain — I  am  still  here. " 

"  Barclay !  " 

"Here." 

* '  I  am  on  deck,  you  see, "  murmured  the  orphan.  '  *  My 
name  is  Figgins,  sir,  and  I  am  an  orphan." 

"Fen ton  !  " 

"Here." 

"Figgins?"  said  the  orphan,  eagerly;  "dear  me,  I 
thought  you  said  Figgins,  captain." 

"Charlton  ! 

"Here." 

"Frampston!" 

"Here." 

"Here!"  said  the  orphan,  in  a  faint  voice,  stepping 
forward.  "I  think  you  said  Figgins  that  time." 

"Stand  back!"  cried  one  of  the  sailors,  dragging  the 
orphan  back  by  the  collar. 

"Dear  me,"  exclaimed  Figgins  in  distress.  "I  made 
sure  that  the  captain  said  Figgins." 

"No,  he  didn't" 

"Grant!" 

"Here." 

"Dear,  dear,  dear,"  exclaimed  the  orphan,  unable  any 
longer  to  conceal  his  fears,  "whenever  will  my  turn 
come  ?  " 

"It  won't  come  at  all,"  returned  the  sailor,  "unless 
you  keep  quiet." 

' '  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  faltered  Figgins. 
"Pray,  captain,  let  me  get  in  the  boat.  I  shan't 
take  up  much  room,  you  know;  I'm  only  a  poor 
orphan. " 

"  You'll  go  down  to  the  bottom  with  the  few  as  remain 
on  board,  I  expect,"  remarked  the  sailor. 

"Oh,  Lor'!  oh,  Lor'!  why  was  I  born?"  moaned 
Figgins.  "Oh,  it's  dreadful  to  go  to  the  bottom  of  the 
sea,  and  never  come  up  again." 

"And  you  won't  come  up  again  unless  it's  in  the  form 
of  shrimps,"  said  Jack. 

"  Shrimps  !  "  almost  shrieked  Mr.  Figgins. 

"  Yes,"  said  young  Jack,  who  was  bound  to  have  his 
lark  under  any  conditions  whatever,  "we  shall  probably 
hear  of  you,  sir,  under  another  form  altogether.  Shrimps 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  153 

are  notoriously  fond  of  dead  bodies,  particularly  the  body 
of  an  orphan. " 

A  hollow  groan  greeted  the  awful  speech. 

"  It  would  really  be  a  novelty,"  pursued  the  remorse- 
less Jack  ;  "  fancy  the  Figgins-flavoured  prawn." 

"Or  the  orphan  potted  shrimp  paste,"  observed  the 
equally  remorseless  Harry  Girdwood;  "the  new  break- 
fast relish." 

"Don't,  I  say." 

"Don't  what?" 

"  Don't  talk  so.     I  hate  such  fearful  levity." 

"Mr.  Figgins, "  said  the  youthful  Harkaway  in  a  deep 
sonorous  voice,  "such  a  fate  Mrould  immortalize  the  name 
of  Figgins. " 

"And  hand  you  down  to  posterity,"  added  Harry 
Girdwood,  in  the  same  key,  "as  a  benefactor  to  man- 
kind and " 

"  Breakfast  tables,  with  the  Figgins  shrimp  paste." 

"Thank  you  very  much,"  replied  the  orphan,  "I've  no 
desire  for  fame. " 

"  Fame,  sir,"  replied  Harry,  "  fame  is  your  lot,  desire  it 
or  not — but  hold  tight, or  you'll  be  overboard,  sir." 

"  Bromley  1 "  sang  out  the  skipper. 

"Here." 

"French!" 

"Here." 

"Oh,  Lor' !  "  cried  Mr.  Figgins  ;   "I'm  a  gone  man." 

"  Figgins  !  "  sang  out  Captain  Deering.     ' '  Figgins  ! " 

The  orphan  tried  to  shriek  out  a  reply,  but  his  tongue 
clove  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth,  and  he  was  dumbstruck. 

"Figgins  !  " 

The  orphan's  lips  moved,  but  not  a  sound  came. 

"Confound  him  !"  ejaculated  the  captain  ;  "pass  on, 
next  one — Jefferies  I  " 

"Here." 

At  this  moment  Figgins  found  his  voice,  and  shrieked — 

"  Here  I  am,  captain.     Figgins,  the  orphan,  is  here  !  " 

And  he  dashed  forward  in  a  frenzy  of  fright  at  being 
passed  over. 

"  Then  why  the  devil  don't  you  answer  to  your  name  ?  H 

"Over  with  you,"  said  Nat,  who  stood  by. 

"Dear,  dear,"  said  the  orphan,  "what  a  remarkably 
awkward  ladder.  Someone  help  me." 


154  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  Now,  look  sharp. " 

"  I  hope  I  shan't  fall  overboard — oh  ! " 

The  words  had  barely  passed  his  lips,  when  he 
stumbled  and  fell. 

Down  he  dropped,  touching  the  boat  and  falling  into 
the  water. 

But  the  men  dragged  him  out. 

"Mind  the  shrimps  don't  get  at  you,  Figgins  !  " 
cried  young  Harkaway. 

"Oh,"  groaned  the  orphan,  as  the  boat  rowed  away, 
"never  was  it  my  fate  before  to  go  down  such  a  remark- 
ably awkward  flight  of  steps." 

"But,  damme  !  "  cried  one  of  the  tars,  "  you  didn't  go 
down  the  steps.  You  preferred  dropping  into  the  water 
and  sousing  us  all  with  the  splash  of  your  darned  car- 
case. " 

"Don't  be  so  impatient,  my  good  man,"  said  the 
orphan.  "Consider,  I  was  never  meant  for  a  sailor." 

"Bah!" 

' '  I  don't  like  the  sea,  and  I  beg  you " 

' '  There,  stow  your  gab  !  " 

"Dear  me,  how  very  violent,"  said  the  orphan.  "Oh, 
I  wish  I  was  in  smoky  London  again." 

"Mr.  Figgins  !"  shouted  Harry  Gird  wood. 

"Yes." 

"Think  of  the  new-flavoured  prawn." 

The  orphan  was  drenched  to  the  skin,  but  in  spite  of 
his  drowned-rat  appearance,  he  could  afford  a  little  laugh 
now. 

So  he  put  on  a  sickly  smile. 

"Perhaps  you  don't  know  I'm  only  an  orphan,  my  good 
men,"  he  said  to  the  rowers,  plaintively,  "and  it's  my 
belief  that  there's  a  special  providence  ready  to  rescue 
the  poor  orphan  from  a  watery  grave." 

"Special  fiddlestick,"  returned  a  tar;  "why,  it  was 
Dick  Bean  as  lugged  you  out  by  the  starn  o'  yer  blessed 
slacks." 

"  Orfin  be  blowed ! "  ejaculated  another  demonstrative 
old  salt ;  "jest  smarm  a  lollipop  into  the  orphan's  gills  to 
stop  his  jaw  !  " 

' '  Dear,  dear  me, "  said  the  orphan,  ' '  what  dreadful 
manners  you  men  of  the  s*1*  have.  Oh,  you  make  me 


HIS  BOY  TINKER,  155 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  LAST  ON  THE  MUSTER  ROLL — THE  SKIPPER*S  HEADER DAVt 

JONES'S  LOCKER. 

CAPTAIN  DEERING  continued  to  call  out  the  names  stead- 
ily still,  although  every  moment  increased  the  peril  of 
those  on  board. 

'Jack,  old  fellow." 
'  What  is  it  ?  " 

'  We  shall  have  to  swim  for  it,  after  all,"  said  Harry. 
'  I  don't  think  so." 

'  I  feel  sure  of  it,"  said  Harry  ;   "let  us  get  on  our  cork 
jackets  sharp." 

"It  is  not  far  to  swim,"  said  Jack,  "but  there  is  no 
harm  in  taking  precautions ;  there  may  be  harm  in  neg- 
lecting them. " 
"Very  well." 
Down  they  went. 

Now  Jack,  in  donning  his  cork  jacket,  forgot  to  replace 
his  locket — Emily's  parting  gift — and  so  he  had  to  put  it 
on  over  the  jacket,  a  chance  which,  strangely  enough, 
led  to  a  singular  mishap,  as  we  shall  presently  see. 
They  were  on  deck  in  three  minutes. 
"  Binks,"  said  the  skipper. 
"Binks,"  cried  the  mate. 
"  Where's  Binks  ?" 
No  response. 

"  He  has  sneaked  into  one  of  the  first  boat-loads,  per- 
haps," suggested  someone. 

"No,  he  ain't,"  returned  Nat  Cringle.  "Binks  is  as 
drunk  as  an  alderman  down  below,  along  o'  Joe  Sprunt 
and  Mr.  Mackenzie." 

"The  time  grows  short,"  said  Captain    Deering,  un- 
easily ;   "they'll  be  drowned  if  we  aren't  sharp." 
'Girdwood,"  sang  out  Captain  Deering. 
'Here." 
'Drewitt." 
'Here." 
'  Will  no  one  go  and  warn  these  men  ?  "  said  young 


I c6  YQUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

Juck.     ' '  I'm  not  going  to  leave  the  ship,  and  see  them 
dragged  down  without  an  effort  to  save  them." 
"  Harkaway,"  called  out  Captain  Deering. 
No  reply. 
'Harkaway." 

'  Harkaway !    Where's  Harkaway  gone  to  1 " 
'Below." 

'Call  him,"  cried  the  captain,  anxiously. 
'  Harkaway ! "  yelled  honest   Nat  Cringle,    who  had 
taken  a  wondrous  fancy  to  young  Jack ;  "for  the  Lord's 
sake  come  up. " 
'  Cringle. " 
'Here,  sir." 
'Over  with  you." 
'  And  you,  captain  ?  " 
'  I  remain  here  till  you  are  all  oft" 
'  I'll  just  see  after  Master  Harkaway,  sir." 
'  Nat  Cringle,"  replied  the  skipper,  sternly,  "you  must 
obey  orders,  or  you  11  be  answerable  for  the  lives  of  these 
men.     Over  with  you." 

Two  men  remained  ;  one  of  the  mates  and  a  sailor. 
They  forced  Nat  Cringle  over  the  side. 
But  the  honest  old  tar  never  ceased  yelling  for  Jack 
Harkaway. 

The  cries  resounding  in  all  directions,  were  deafening. 
In  the  boat  just  pushed  off  the  voice  of  Harry  Gird- 
wood   could    be    heard    above  all,  calling    to    his  rash 
young  comrade  in  wild  despair. 
'Now,  Briggit." 
'Here,  yer honour." 
'  Over  with  you. " 
'  And  you,  captain  ?" 

'  Confound  you  !  "  roared  the  captain,  losing  his  tem- 
per now  that  he  had  saved  his  crew  by  his  coolness  and 
presence  of  mind ;  "  over  with  you." 
"After  you,  yer  honour." 

"  D n  you  for  a  mutinous  thief.  She's  rocking  un- 
der our  feet  I  tell  you.  Over  with  you  ;  the  ship  is  going 
down  fast." 

The  "Albatross  "  was  giving  her  final  kick. 
"Pull  clear  of  the  ship — pull  hard — pull — pull,  I  say. 
Lay  down  to  it,  or  you'll  be  sucked  down. " 
The  men  gave  way  and  pulled  with  resolution,  with 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  157 


the  instinct  of  discipline  strong  upon  them  rather  than 
But  for  the  word  of  command,  which  the  skipper  cried  out 
so  clearly,  they  would  have  stuck  there,  heedless  of  the 
danger  of  being  drawn  down  in  the  vortex,  so  that  they 
could  have  been  near  their  bold,  lion-hearted  skipper. 

Captain  Deering's  task  of  peril  was  not  yet  over. 

Seeing  the  boat  clear  of  danger  now,  the  captain  threw 
off  his  top  coat  and  ran  along  the  deck  to  yell  down  be- 
low after  Jack. 

"  Harkaway  !  "  he  cried,  "  Harkaway.  Come  up  ;  the 
last  boat's  gone.  Hah  !  too  late.  " 

He  cast  off  what  clothing  he  could,  and  bounding  up 
to  a  point  of  vantage,  he  took  a  long,  vigorous  dive  just 
as  the  treacherous  old  "Albatross"  settled  and  went 
down. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

DARE  DEVIL  JACK — IN  THE  DEEP  TROUGH  OF  THE  SEA — THE  CORK 
JACKET  PLAYS  ITS  PART  WELL — MR.  TINKER  AND  HIS  VALET 
"  GO  TO  LARN  UP  ALL  PERTICKLARS. " 

"WHERE  is  Jack?"  cried  Harry  Gird  wood.  "Pull 
back,  I  say.  Don't  desert  him." 

"  There  goes  the  skipper,"  cried  Nat  Cringle.  "  Hur- 
rah ! " 

This  was  at  the  moment  that  Deering  took  his  desper- 
ate header. 

The  men  caught  up  the  cheer  one  and  all. 

"Pull  back,  pull  back,"  said  Harry  Gird  wood,  despair- 
ingly. "Don't  let  us  desert  like  curs  the  bravest,  boldest 
heart  that  ever  beat  in  a  sailor's  breast." 

"  Don't  listen  to  him,  men  ;  Harkaway  had  his  chance  ; 
let  him  drown,  he's  not  of  any  use  to  us.  Pull  away,  or 
we  shall  all  be  drawn  under  the  sinking  ship,"  said 
Murray. 

"Hold  your  mag,"  said  Harry,  dropping  his  hand 
heavily  upon  the  speaker's  head.  "Jack  is  worth  a  thou- 
sand of  your  wretched  sort." 

"Why  should  we  endanger  all  for  the  sake  of  one? 
cried  Murray.     "  He  chose  to  go  and  play  the  fool  after 
those  drunken  men." 


J58  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Silence,  you  heartless  young  swab,"  exclaimed  Nat 
Cringle.  *'  Haifa  word  more  to  that  tune,  and  I'll  drop 
you  overboard." 

"There's  someone  climbing  the  rigging,  I  think,"  said 
one  of  the  sailors.  "  Look  there. " 

"  It's  young  Harkaway." 

"No,  no,  it  is  not  Jack,"  said  Harry  Girdwood,  almost 
in  tears.  "Poor  Jack  has  gone  down." 

Alas !    there  was  no  hope  for  him  now. 

Meanwhile,  Captain  Deering  was  seen  breasting  the 
surface  of  the  water,  and  pushing  along  with  a  vigorous 

side  stroke. 

****** 

When  young  Jack  got  down  below,  he  found  two  of  the 
crew  hopelessly  drunk,  and  the  Scotch  mate  in  a  scarce 
better  condition. 

"This  is  a  hopeless  case,"  exclaimed  young  Jack. 

The  mate  was  not  quite  so  far  gone  as  the  two  unfort- 
unate men  to  whom  he  had  set  so  bad  an  example. 

"  Mackenzie, "cried  Jack,  shaking  him. 

"  Eh  ?    Whose  watch  ?  "  muttered  the  mate. 

"The  ship's  settling,  I  tell  you,"  cried  Jack.  "Wake 
up." 

"Ugh  !  "grunted  Mackenzie ;  "it's  not  my  watch,  I  tell 
ye.  I  ken  verra  weel  when " 

And  then  he  lay  back  and  snored  again. 

Jack  cried  out  in  despair — 

«'  The  fool!  He's  lost  1  Hah!  what's  this  here  ?  The 
very  thing." 

A  bucket  of  water  stood  just  handy,  so  Jack  whipped 
it  up  and  dashed  it  over  the  mate. 

"Darn  yer  imperence  !"  cried  Sandy,  waking  up  and 
making  a  grab  at  young  Jack. 

Just  then  the  voice  of  the  skipper  was  heard  calling 
him  wildly  to  come  up. 

"Let  go,  Mackenzie,"  cried  Jack,  struggling  with 
desperation. 

But  the  mate  was  a  gaunt,  strong  fellow,  and  young 
Jack  stood  but  a  very  poor  chance  in  a  tussle  with  him. 

"I'll  crop  yer  ears  for  ye,  ye  whelp  of  Satan  1 "  hic- 
coughed the  Scotch  mate. 

"  Too  late,  too  late, "  cried  the  skipper  up  aloft.  ' '  Jack, 
lack,  where  are  you  ?  " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  ^9 

The  words  sounded  like  a  death-knell  in  young  Jack's 
ear. 

He  fought  fiercely  with  the  drunken  mate,  and,  wrig- 
gling himself  half  out  of  his  clutches,  sent  him  staggering 
back,  but  before  Jack  could  get  fairly  off,  Mackenzie  was 
after  him  again,  and  grabbed  at  him. 

He  was  a  little  short,  but  he  chanced  to  get  hold  of  the 
locket  and  chain — little  Emily's  parting  gift — and  held 
Jack  momentarily  a  prisoner,  but  holding  on  to  the  hand- 
rail with  the  energy  of  despair,  our  hero  kicked  out  des- 
perately, and  sent  the  mate  reeling  back. 

Up  he  flew  on  deck. 

The  captain  had  already  taken  his  leap  for  life. 

The  ship  sank  fast 

Jack's  peril  was  deadly. 

He  looked  about  him. 

His  only  chance  was  the  rigging. 

Young  Jack  climbed  like  Nero  himself,  so  up  he  went 
hand  over  hand  into  the  shrouds,  as  the  ill-starred  "  Alba- 
tross "  quickened  her  pace  downwards. 

Even  now  he  did  not  turn  sick  or  faint-hearted,  as  may 
be  guessed  by  the  following  characteristic  speech — 

"That  beast  Mackenzie  has  grabbed  Em's  locket" 

He  reached  the  crosstrees,  and  gave  a  sharp  look 
around  him  as  he  calculated  his  chances. 

The  whirlpool  which  the  sinking  of  the  huge  carcase 
caused,  was  of  alarming  dimensions. 

Spars,  chips  and  coops,  and  sundry  floating  things 
which  had  been  thrown  overboard  at  the  last  moment, 
were  drawn  into  the  vortex  already. 

And  this  told  young  Harkaway  his  danger. 

It  was  not  difficult  to  see  it. 

"Well,"  said  young  Jack,  resolutely,  "it  is  my  only 
chance  for  life.  Here  goes." 

He  set  his  teeth,  poised  himself  for  a  moment  upon  the 
crosstree,  then  swinging  back,  he  plunged  boldly  forward 
into  the  air. 

Heaven  ! 

What  an  eternity  it  seemed  to  our  brave  young  hero, 
that  brief  passage  through  the  air  ! 

Down,  down  he  v/ent,  seemingly  to  the  ocean's  bed. 

Then  having  regained — well,  scarcely  his  presence  of 
mind,  but  rather  having  strong  instinct  of  self-preserva- 


1 60  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

tion — he  struck  upwards,  and  with  half  a  dozen  vigorous 
strokes  he  reached  the  surface — reached  air  and  light. 

The  cork  jacket  now  played  its  part  well. 

Where  would  young  Harkaway  have  been  else  ? 

Probably  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 

And  there  would  have  been  an  end  to  the  adventures 
of  young  Jack  Harkaway  and  his  boy  Tinker  at  once. 

Brave  young  Jack  did  not  mean  to  cry  a  go  yet. 

He  stuck  to  it  manfully,  and  as  he  breasted  the  surface 
of  the  water,  a  singular  phenomenon  manifested  itself. 

He  had  not  felt  the  influence  of  the  sinking  ship  while 
under,  yet  now  that  he  was  on  the  surface,  and  on  the 
limit  of  the  whirlpool's  eddies,  he  felt  the  strength  of  its 
influence. 

It  was  desperate  work  now. 

He  set  his  teeth,  and  plunged  on. 

Yet  he  felt  that  in  spite  of  every  thing,  he  made  little  or 
no  progress. 

As  fast  as  he  got  ahead,  the  fierce  strength  of  the  whirl- 
pool drew  him  back. 

It  was  indeed  well  for  him  that  he  had  not  reached  the 
surface  earlier. 

He  felt  this  instinctively,  and  taking  a  long,  deep 
•draught  of  air,  he  ducked  his  head,  and  plunged  below 
the  surface  once  more. 

A  dozen  vigorous  strokes,  and  he  shot  up  again. 

Then  he  was  safe. 

"Now  for  a  good,  long,  steady  swim,  Jack,  old  boy," 
he  cried  to  himself. 

Then  turning  over  on  his  back,  he  took  it  easy  and 
looked  about  him. 

"That  was  a  narrow  squeak,"  he  said.  "But  I  wish 
that  that  beast  of  a  Mackenzie  had  not  prigged  my 
locket." 

He  was  a  good  swimmer,  but  there  came  a  time,  when 
even  he  was  tired  out. 

He  turned  over  and  had  a  swim. 

The  shore  looked  a  desperate  way  off. 

"  I  shall  never  be  able  to  reach  shore  all  that  way  off," 
he  said.  "But  'never  say  die'  is  my  motto,  so  here 
goes. " 

Young  Jack  caught  sight  of  a  boat  presently,  and  he 
hailed  it. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  l6l 

"  Hello— ho  I    Help— ho,  ho  !  " 

The  effort  took  all  his  strength,  and  he  gasped  again. 

Thanks  to  his  cork  jacket,  he  did  not  go  under,  but  by 
now  he  was  powerless  to  help  himself. 

But  on  board  this  boat  there  were  two  persons  who  had 
heard  the  cry. 

Moreover,  both  of  them  had  recognised  the  voice. 

"Oh  golly,  dat's  Massa  Jack,"  said  one  of  the  persons. 
"  I's  gwine  to  larn  up  all  perticklers." 

And  with  no  more  ado,  the  speaker,  who  was  a  nigger, 
tumbled  over  into  the  water. 

The  other  person  was  likewise  a  darkey. 

"You  may  consider  dis  infant  dere,  Massa  Tinker," 
said  the  other  person,  peeling  hastily. 

He  dived  over  too. 

These  two  darkeys,  who  were,  need  we  say  ? — Tinker, 
and  that  gentleman's  valet  and  major-domo,  Bogey, 
were  quite  as  much  at  home  in  the  water  as  they  were 
upon  land,  and  they  thought  no  more  of  trusting  their 
ebony  carcases  to  the  waves  than  we  should  think  of  eat- 
ing our  dinner. 

They  played  up  all  kinds  of  pranks  in  the  water,  and 
could  keep  under,  seemingly,  any  length  of  time. 

It  was  a  comical  race. 

Every  now  and  again,  one  or  the  other  would  bob  up 
and  squint  at  his  fellow-countryman. 

Then  they  would  shoot  along  again. 

"Look,  Bogey,"  cried  Tinker.  "Yah,  yah;  dere  he 
am,  dis  child  soon  hab  him." 

At  length  they  got  within  range  of  poor  young  Jack. 

He  was  floating,  thanks  to  the  corks,  but  insensible. 

When  they  were  within  range,  they  dived  simultane- 
ously, and  then  shooting  upwards,  came  to  the  surface  at 
the  self-same  moment,  one  on  either  side  of  young  Jack. 

"Oh  golly,  Bogey,"  cried  Tinker;  "dis  infant  am 
awful  glad  he  got  hold  of  good  Massa  Jack." 

And  so  the  two  niggers,  master  and  valet,  towed  young 
Jack  up  to  the  side  of  the  boat,  and  then  with  great  diffi- 
culty they  got  him  into  it. 

II 


1 62  YO  UNG  JA  C.K  HARK  A  WA  Y  AXD 

CHAPTER   XXXII. 

BOGEY   IS   COMMISSIONED   TO   RUB   MASSA  JACK*S   LITTLE  TUMMY. 

"BE  golly,  him  look  pale  !  " 

' '  'Ole    your  bressed  tongue,    nigger !  "    said  Tinker, 
authoritatively  ;   "  and  rub  him  little  tummy." 
"Yes,  massa. " 

"Poor  fellar  !  "  said  Tinker,  sadly  ;   "  himbery  uncom- 
mon poorly." 

"  Dis  chile  make  him  tummy  warm,"  remarked  Bogey, 
"an'  den  he'll  get  all  right,  massa." 

So  saying,  he  rubbed  away  now  more  vigorously  than 
ever. 

The  efforts  of  the  two  faithful  darkeys  soon  told,  for 
Jack  opened  his  eyes. 

'Tinker,"  said  he,  with  a  sigh. 
Yes,  sar,  dat  am  dis  good-looking  child." 
'  Where  am  I  ?  " 

'Hyar,  sar,  'long  wid  Tinker  and  Bogey." 
'  Where's  here  ?  " 
'  In  de  boat,  sar. " 
'I  remember  now,  Tinker." 
'  What  you  remember,  sar  ?  " 
'That  beast  of  a  Mackenzie  prigged  my  locket" 
Tinker  looked  puzzled. 

Then  shooting  an  inquisitive  glance  at  his  master,  he 
made  up  his  mind. 

The    trials   and    dangers   had   turned    "him    bressed 
head." 

"Mackenzie,  sar,"  he  said,  seemingly  indignant,  "did 
you  say  Mackenzie,  sar?  " 
"Yes." 

"Well,  sar,  punch  him  head." 

"  I  mean  to  if  he's  afloat,"  returned  young  Jack  ;     'but 
I  fear  he's  gone  down." 

This  being  off  his  mind,  young  Jack  lapsed  into  a  sort 
of  semi-somnolency. 
' '  Bogey. " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  163 

"Yes,  massa." 

"Rub  him  tummy,  you  ugly  waggibone.** 

"Yes,  massa." 

"Keep  a-rubbin'  ob  him  till  he  get  allober  warm  like." 

"Yes,  massa." 

And  he  went  to  work  at  a  rare  rate,  too. 

Well,  the  result  of  this  was  that  when  they  got  ashore, 
young  Jack  had  so  far  recovered  that  he  was  really  very 
little  the  worse  for  his  leap,  and  his  dive,  and  his  pro- 
tracted immersion. 

The  boat  grounded  just  about  three  or  four  minutes 
before  another  boat  came  on  shore. 

And  in  this  boat  was  Harry  Girdwood,  just  returned  in 
bitter  despair  at  what  he  thought  Jack's  death. 

He  looked  so  pale  and  haggard  that  one  could  scarcely 
believe  it  to  be  the  result  of  grief  alone. 

Young  Jack  ran  to  greet  him. 

"Why,  Harry,  old  man,  what  is  the  matter?" 

Harry  Girdwood  looked  puzzled. 

"Jack." 

"  Yes." 

"Is  it  you?" 

"Why,  yes,  unless  I  am  very  much  mistaken.  I  don't 
think  I  am  anyone  else  than  young  Jack  Harkaway." 

"Why,  Jack,  my  dear  old  boy,  how  did  you  get 
here  ? " 

"Partly  by  swimming,  partly  by  floating,  and  partly 
in  the  boat,  while  Bogey  rubbed  my  little  tummy  to  bring 
me  round. " 

While  Jack  was  urging  on  his  wild  career  shorewards, 
the  other  boat  in  which  Harry  Girdwood  was  drafted  off, 
had  been  hanging  about  the  wreck  to  pick  up  anyone 
who  might  have  been  overboard  and  had  the  good  luck 
to  get  clear  of  the  vessel. 

But  they  were  singularly  unfortunate. 

A  third  boat  had  picked  the  skipper  up,  while  they  re- 
mained even  ignorant  of  his  fate  as  they  had  been  until 
now  of  young  Jack  Harkaway's. 


"What,  young  Harkaway,"  cried  out  a  manly  voice; 
"give  us  your  grappling-iron,  Master  Jack,  for,  damme, 
Nat  Cringle  longs  to  touch  your  flesh." 


164  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Nat  Cringle,"  cried  young  Jack ; 
"give  us  a  grasp." 

His  example  was  followed  by  all  round. 

And  young  Jack  had  his  right  hand  well-nigh  wrung 
off. 

' '  I  had  all  my  work  to  do,"  said  young  Jack,  "  to  get 
free  of  that  drunken  old  Mackenzie." 

And  thereupon  he  related  all  that  had  taken  place  on 
board  during  his  vain  endeavour  to  rescue  the  mate  from 
the  wreck. 

"  I  only  hope  as  he's  saved,"  said  Nat  Cringle,  "  for  if 
I  meet  him  ashore,  I'll  make  small  biscuit  of  him  in  the 
turning  of  a  marlin-spike." 

That  Nat's  resolve  was  highly  approved  of  was  duly  at- 
tested by  the  salvos  of  cheers  from  the  sailors  which 
greeted  his  speech. 

"Well,"  cried  Jack,  "  I  hope  we  shall  meet  him,  for 
confound  the  brute  1  he's  prigged  a  locket  my  little  sweet- 
heart gave  me  at  parting  on  shore. " 


CHAPTER  XXXIIL 

THE  ORPHAN'S   INFIRMITIES — JACK    GIVES   HIM  A  LESSON   IN 

SPANISH. 

"HERE  comes  the  skipper." 

"  Hurrah,  here  he  conies." 

Captain  Deering  saw  Jack,  and  he  came  running  up  to 
the  spot  to  greet  him. 

"Egad,  Master  Harkaway,  you've  had  a  narrow  es- 
cape this  time,"  he  said. 

"And  you  too,  sir." 

"Yes,  Harkaway,"  replied  the  skipper;  "a  closer 
shave  than  I  should  care  for  every  day.  I  might  not 
always  come  off,  d'ye  see  ? " 

Just  then  a  sick-looking  gentleman  came  up  with  his 
head  tied  up  in  a  white  handkerchief. 

"Oh,  Captain  Deering,"  said  he,  "  I  congratulate  you, 
indeed  I  do.  After  what  young  Harkaway  told  me  of 
those  nasty  shrimps,  I  feared  you  had  gole  to  the  bot- 
tob." 

"So  I  had,  Mr.  Figgins,"  returned  the  skipper,  with  a 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  165 

"and  I  came  to  the  top  again  as  quick  as  conven- 
fent" 

"It  was  dearly  all  over  with  be,  too,  captid." 

"Oh,  no,"  returned  the  captain,  "you  were  soon 
picked  out,  and  you're  not  much  the  worse  for  a  sousing. 
Salt  water  doesn't  hurt  any  man." 

The  orphan  gave  a  groan  and  a  grunt  of  impatience  at 
this. 

"Doesl't  it  leither?  Why,  I've  got  a  cole  id  by  dose 
that'll  last  be  for  a  fortdight. " 

The  doleful  expression  of  the  orphan's  face  made  the 
skipper  laugh  outright. 

' '  Not  so  bad  as  that,  Mr.  Figgins,  I  hope. " 

"Isl't  it? — but  I  know  it  is.  I  wish  somebody  else 
had  got  my  cold  in  his  nose,"  returned  the  orphan. 

"You  may  think  yourself  very  fortunate  there  were  no 
shrimps  here  to  seize  upon  you,  when  you  tumbled  in  the 
water ;  but  you  can  easily  get  over  your  cold,  Mr.  Figgins," 
said  young  Jack. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Jack." 

"How  do  you  feel, Mr.  Figgins?" 

"I'm  very  bad  indeed,  Bister  Jack  ;  I  wish  some  kind 
person  would  take  care  of  me,  for  I  am  only  an  orphan." 

"  Oh,  we'll  take  care  of  you,  but  you  must  get  over  your 
cold  first.  Take  a  tubful  of  gruel  with  a  candle  in  it,  sir." 

"A  what  ?" 

"A  candle  ;  I  don't  mean  to  eat  the  candle  altogether." 

"I  should  thick  dot." 

"  You  only  have  to  drop  the  candle  in  the  gruel,  while 
it's  nice  and  hot  to  melt  it  a  little  and  rub  yourself  all  over 
with  it." 

"Get  alog,  you're  chaffig.  I  wish  you  good  evedig, 
Baster  John." 

"  I'm  only  Master  John  on  Sundays,  Mr.  Figgins — Jack 
on  week  days,  please." 

"  Jokid  apart,"  said  the  orphan,  "gruel  isl't  a  bad  thig 
for  a  cole,  oly  I  cal't  thig  how  I  shall  get  od  with  these 
Spadiards. " 

"Easy  enough." 

"  What's  the  Spadish  for  gruel,  Jack  ?  " 

"  Bilstickas  sauce,"  responded  young  Jack,  promptly. 

"Dear  be.  Ad — ad — jokid  apart,  a  caddie  isl't  half  a 
bad  thig  for  the  dose." 


166  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

'  You're  right." 

'  What's  the  Spadish  for  caddie,  cub  dow?*' 
•Fardendippa,"  answered  young  Jack. 
;Fardeddippa." 
'Yes." 

'What  a  sigular  lagwidge  Spadish  is,  Baster  Jack." 
'  Very.     Remember  that  Spanish  people  are  very  proud 
and  ceremonious. " 

"All  right,  I'll  be  cerebodious  with  theb.  I  shall  get  to 
the  hotel  and  off  to  bed  ;  good-dight." 

"Well,  good-night,  Mr.  Figgins,  and  don't  forget  your 
Spanish,  for  remember  you  are  a  young  and  tender 
orphan,  with  no  one  to  look  after  you,  and  the  Spanish  peo- 
ple like  to  use  their  knives  on  unprotected  English 
orphans. " 

"True,  true.     Oh,  I  wish  I  was  at  home." 
And  as  he  went  up  the  beach,  he  kept  repeating  it  to 
himself — 

"Gruel,  bilstickas  sauce.  Caddie,  fardeddippa,  good 
for  the  dose  and  a  cold." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

AT    THEIR    TRICKS  AGAIN — THE    COCKNEY    WAITER— A  SURPRISE 
— POOR  ORPHAN  FIGGINS. 

"JACK,  what  do  you  think  of  this  place?" 
"Well,  Harry,  not  half  bad  diggings  up  to  the  present 
There  is  only  one  drawback  as  far  as  I  can  find  out  as 
yet." 

'  What  is  it  ? " 

'  The  Carlists. " 

'Those  rascals  are  never  here,"  exclaimed  Harry. 

'Yes,  they  are  ;  rather  strong,  too." 

'  Are  these  people  all  Carlists  then  ?  " 

'To  a  man." 

'  Pheugh  !  I  say,  Jack,  old  boy,  that's  rather  hot" 

'  Oh,   there  is  nothing  much  to  fear  until  the  other 
scoundrels  come  and  bombard  the  town." 

"The    deuce    they  will.     Why,    Jack,    we  have  run 
ourselves  into  some  danger. " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  167 

"Very  great  danger,  from  what  I  hear." 

"Well,  this  is  a  precious  rum  go, "  said  Harry  Girdwood. 
"However,"  he  added,  with  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye, 
"we  can  stand  to  it,  and  it  won't  prevent  us  making  the 
most  of  Mr.  Figgins' terror  when  we  pile  it  on  him." 

"Oh,  our  poor  orphan  will  be  in  for  a  good  thing," 
said  Jack,  chuckling  aloud  at  the  bare  anticipation  ;  "but 
it  must  be  very  carefully  done." 

"Very." 

' '  I'll  work  up  to  it  with  tales  of  the  Carlists'  atrocities — 
Make  out  that  they're  every  thing  that's  awful — cannibals 
included  ? " 

Poor  Figgins  ! 

Hapless  orphan  ! 

He  was  destined  to  suffer  now  for  the  amusement  ot  our 
two  young  scapegraces. 


They  Mrent  up  to  have  a  look  at  Mr.  Figgins,  and  they 
found  him  in  his  room  in  bed,  struggling  in  an  over- 
whelming sea  of  difficulties. 

"You  feel  more  yourself  now,  Mr.  Figgins,"  said  Harry 
Girdwood,  "  now  that  you  have  on  your  nightcap." 
'  I  do  certainly  feel  easier. " 
'  You  would  of  course, "  said  Jack  eagerly. 
'  And  did  you  try  the  gruel  and  the  candle  ?  " 
'I  couldn't." 
'Why  not?" 

[Couldl  'bake  eb  udderstal." 

'We'll  manage  that  for  you,"  said  Harry  Girdwood, 
tipping  Jack  the  wink. 

'  Of  course,  any  thing  to  oblige  Mr.  Figgins. " 
'Thakyou,  oh!  thak  you,  young  geltlemal,"  responded 
the  grateful  sufferer  ;   ' '  but,  oh,  why  did  I  ever  come  to 
sea  ?     I  was  never  intended  for  a  sailor.     Oh,  dear  !  " 
"  Poor  thing.     Shall  I  ring  the  bell  ?  "  said  Jack. 
"Oh,  I  wish  I  could  hear  a  London  muffin  bell ;  that 
would  be  music  to  me. " 

Harry  rang,  and  up  came  a  spruce  young  waiter. 

"Waiter,"  said  Jack,  in  his  most  Spanish  air. 

"Senor." 

"  Candeloza  por  el  nosa  deT  olda-cockawaxa." 

The  waiter  looked  considerably  puzzled. 


168  YOUNG  JACK  HARKAWAY  AND 

"  Candeloza,  senor  excettenza  P" 

"Si,"  said  young  Jack,  "don't  you  understand? 
Candeloza— far dendip pa  por  el  nosa  del?  ancienta-buffa." 

' '  Por  taller  sua  snuff boxa, "  explained  Harry  Gird  wood, 
gesticulating  violently. 

The  waiter  looked  on  aghast. 

"  He  doesl'  cobrehed, "  exclaimed  the  invalid,  in  despair ; 
"waiter." 

"Senor." 

Mr.  Figgins  sat  bolt  upright  and  pantomimed  violently 
at  the  waiter. 

"Caddie — udderstal,  caddie,  tallow-wick,  light,  fat  to 
rub  ol  by  lose,  udderstal  ?  " 

"Oh!" 

That  was  all  the  waiter  could  say  in  his  wonder. 

"Now  he  understands,"  said  Jack,  winking  at  Harry. 

"Mr.  Figgins'  Spanish  is  better  than  ours." 

"Oh,  dear,  no,  sir,"  responded  the  waiter,  with  a 
mirthful  twinkle  in  his  eye  and  in  purest  Whitechapel 
English  ;  "about  the  same,  sir.  Didn't  know  you  was 
English,  sir.  Old  gent  wants  a  taller  candle  to  rub  on  his 
nozzle.  I  see,  sir.  I'd  no  notion  that  you  was  a-getting 
at  me,  sir  !  I'm  from  the  East  of  London,  bred  and  born 
there. " 

Off  he  ran,  leaving  Master  Jack  and  his  companion 
rather  more  astonished  than  the  waiter  himself  had 
previously  appeared. 


"  Well  1 "  exclaimed  Harry  Girdwood,  "that  has  rather 
taken  it  out  of  us. " 

"Rather.     Who  would  have  thought  of  seeing  a  Lon- 
don waiter  here  ? " 

"Let  us  go  and  find  the  Cockney  waiter  and  see  what 
we  can  do  with  him." 

"Come  along." 

They  found  that  Cockney  waiter  and  they  bribed  him. 

And  they  plotted  in  the  most  shameful  manner  against 
the  orphan  Figgins'  future  peace  of  mind. 

Of  this  more  anon. 

For  the  present  we  must  limit  ourselves  to  saying  that 
some    unhappy   moments   were   in    store   for   the 
gentleman  with  the  cold  in  his  head. 


BOY  TINKER. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

A  STROLL  IN  AN  ORANGE  GROVE — THE  VINEYARD — THE  HARKAWAY 
BLOOD  IS  UP  AGAIN — AN  AWKWARD  MESS. 

"  LET'S  go  and  have  a  look  about  the  town,"  said  Jack. 

"  With  all  my  heart,  "responded  Harry  Gird  wood,  "but 
let  us  get  some  information  first  of  the  Cockney  waiter." 

Trimmer,  the  Cockney  waiter,  had  lived  there  for  years 
and  knew  every  thing  and  every  body. 

He  was  well  acquainted  with  the  country  around  and  he 
directed  them  to  the  most  interesting  places  to  visit. 

"  If  you  turn  to  the  left  when  you  get  outside,"  said 
he,  "  you  will  come  to  the  orange  grove — the  best  walk 
in  this  part — and  beyond  that  you  get  to  the  vineyards, 
and  they  are  downright  awful  stunning." 

"  You  are  so  emphatic  and  forcible,"  said  young  Jack, 
"  that  I  shall  be  off  at  once." 

"All  right,  sir,  but  keep  clear  of  them  Carlist  fellows  ; 
they're  as  proud  as  Lucifer,  and  they  haven't  a  stiver  to 
spend  ;  they  lived  upon  olives  and  garlic,  and  there  ain't, 
so  to  speak,  a  clean  shirt  in  the  army." 

"I'll  be  careful." 

"That's  right." 

"  And  if  any  of  them  Carlist  fellows  speak  to  you,  only 
bow  and  walk  on." 

"We  will." 


It  would  have  been  as  well  if  they  had  followed  out  the 
injunctions  of  the  Cockney  waiter  literally. 

But  out  of  sight,  out  of  mind. 

They  were  no  sooner  in  the  orange  grove  than  they 
forgot  all  about  the  Carlists  and  the  waiter,  and,  in  fact, 
about  any  thing  for  the  time  being,  but  the  delicious  per- 
fume of  the  enchanting  scene  through  which  they  were 
passing. 

"  What  a  Paradise,  Jack  !  "  exclaimed  Harry. 

"Elysium,"  was  Jack's  rapturous  reply. 


170  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"It  smells  like  all  the  perfumes  of  Bond  Street  boiled 
down. " 

"Delicious!  " 

•     "  What  a  thousand  pities  that  our  foggy  old  climate 
won't  grow  such  a  treat  as  this." 

"  It  is.  But,  then,  our  foggy  old  climate  dosn't  grow 
Carlists  and  garlic  and  dirt  and  brag  and  lies  so  pro- 
lifically  as  this  beautiful  place." 

"That's  true,  old  wet-blanket,"  said  Jack." 

"Old  England  isn't  half  a  bad  place,  after  all,  in  spite 
of  its  fogs  and  rains  and  coughs,  colds,  catarrhs, 
rheumatism,  and  the  rest  of  it." 

"Ugh  !  "  growled  Harry,  "couldn't  you  rake  up  a  few 
more  reproaches  for  the  land  of  your  birth  ?  " 

Young  Jack's  response  was  brief  and  expressive — 

"Pickles!" 

"Then,  after  a  moment,  he  said — 

''Let's  change  the  subject." 

"When  will  the  divers  begin  their  operations?" 

"To-morrow,  if  what  Captain  Deeringsays  is  true  ;  the 
vessel  is  already  on  the  spot,  you  know." 

' '  But  I  am  told  that  only  one  of  the  divers  has  come 
over  up  to  the  present." 

"What  of  that?" 

"A  great  deal." 

"Why?" 

"  How  can  he  begin  alone? **  ' 

"Easily  enough." 

"It  must  be  precious  dangerous,  I  should  say." 

"Why  more  dangerous  for  one  than  for  several  ?  " 

"Why,  if  two  are  together  and  one  is  not  well — if  any 
accident  happens,  the  other  could  give  the  signal  to  haul 
up." 

"  True,  there  must  be  great  danger  attendant  upon  deep 
sea  diving." 

They  walked  on  for  some  distance  in  silence. 

"Harry." 

"Yes." 

"  I'm  going  to  confide  in  you,  old  man,  only  I  want 
you  first  to  make  me  a  promise." 

"I  will." 

"You  won't  laugh ? " 

"I'll  look  as  serious  as  a  whole  bench  of  judges." 


HIS  BO  Y  TINKER.  1 7 1 

"Well,  the  fact  is,  that  in  the  under  steward's  cabin  of 
the  '  Albatross '  is  something  which  I  wouldn't  lose  for  a 
hundred  pounds — no,  nor  for  a  good  many  hundreds." 

Harry  stared. 

"What  is  it?" 

"You're  going  to  grin." 

"Not  I." 

"Well,  it  is  a — now  don't  get  on  that  beastly  guffaw, 
Harry.     Em  gave  me  a  locket  before  I  left,  with  a  lock  of 
her  hair  in  it — bless  her  !  and  the  drunken  brute  Mackenzie 
made  a  grab  at  me  as  I  was  escaping  up  the  companion 
ladder,  and  tore  it  off  my  neck." 
;What  then?" 
I  want  it." 
'You  can't  get  it." 
<  I'll  go  after  it." 

Bosh  !     Do  you  think  you  would  please  Emily  by 
risking  your  life  on  such  a  job  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I  don't  mean  to  go  home  without  it." 

Harry  Girdwood  looked  anxious  at  this. 

He  knew  too  well  the  determination  of  the  Harkaways 
one  and  all,  and  he  knew  that  all  the  arguments  he  could 
use  would  not  turn  young  Jack  from  his  purpose. 

So  he  tried  to  effect  a  compromise. 

"You  have  only  to  try  and  tip  the  diver  who's  there 
already. " 

"I'll  try  it." 


They  had  now  emerged  from  the  orange  grove. 

Beyond,  they  came  to  an  enclosed  ground  with  a  high 
wall  lining  the  side  of  the  path  on  their  right. 

They  had  to  pick  their  way  along  here,  for  the  road  was 
below  the  level  of  the  path,  and  a  recent  heavy  rain  and 
bad  drainage  combined  had  left  the  road  in  a  sad  mess. 

They  picked  their  way  along  in  single  file,  keeping  up 
close  to  the  wall. 

In  this  way  they  progressed  for  some  distance,  when  a 
man  was  seen  to  turn  a  corner  sharply  .and  advance 
towards  them. 

Now  this  man  could  very  well  have  retreated  to  the 
place  from  whence  he  had  emerged  and  allowed  them  to 
pass. 


1 7  2  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

But  he  was  a  haughty,  ill-natured  fellow,  and  he  made 
straight  up  to  the  two  lads  with  a  sternly  defiant  air,  and 
waited  for  them  to  turn  aside  for  him. 

So  they  came  to  a  full  stop. 

The  stranger  was  a  young,  tall,  dark  man,  handsome 
enough  to  look  at,  and  seemingly  a  military  officer. 

He  paused  a  moment,  looking  down  upon  young  Jack, 
who  stared  back  coolly  enough,  for  it  wanted  a  very  big 
man  indeed  to  abash  a  Harkaway. 

"  Maledicion  !  give  way,  boy,"  ejaculated  the  Spaniard, 
furiously. 

And  lunging  suddenly  forward,  he  seized  hold  of  Jack 
and  whirled  him  off  the  path  into  the  mud,  ankle  deep. 

Now  this  was  not  the  sort  of  thing  that  young  Jack 
could  relish,  or  he  would  not  have  been  the  son  of  his 
father. 

Before  you  could  say  Jack  Robinson,  or,  indeed,  give 
utterance  to  an  infinitely  more  brief  exclamation,  he 
sprang  forward  and  seized  the  Spaniard  by  the  leg,  and 
gave  it  a  mighty  tug. 

The  effort  was  so  sudden  that  the  officer  could  not  save 
himself,  and  he  went  sprawling  in  the  mud. 

The  Spaniard  made  a  rare  noise  and  bluster,  and  used 
a  lot  of  very  alarming  expressions,  or  rather  expressions 
which  ought  to  have  frightened  the  very  soul  out  of  the 
two  boys  if  they  had  understood  a  word  of  them. 

But  beyond  a  good  many  Carambas,  Carajos,  and  Mal- 
edicions  they  did  not  understand  much. 

He  shook  some  of  the  mud  from  his  garments  and  made 
a  rush  at  Jack,  but  the  latter  dodged  the  don  and  met  him 
with  a  good  old  English  one,  straight  from  the  shoulder. 

"  I'll  have  your  heart's  blood  for  that,"  cried  the 
Spaniard,  taking  out  a  card  and  throwing  it  at  Jack. 

Now  the  latter  understood  the  action,  although  he  could 
make  nothing  of  the  words,  and  this  was  a  species  of  in- 
vitation which  one  of  his  hot-blooded  race  could  not 
refuse. 

"It's  a  challenge,"  exclaimed  Harry,  in  alarm. 

Young  Jack  produced  his  card  and  wrote  upon  it  the 
name  of  the  hotel  at  which  they  were  staying. 

"What  are  you  about  ?  "  cried  Harry  Gird  wood.  "  I'm 
not  going  to  have  anything  of  this  kind  ;  you  shall  not 
meet  this  man  in  combat" 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  173 

"You  can't  help  it  any  more  than  I  can,"  returned  Jack, 
coolly.  "  At  your  service,  sefior,  when  you  please,"  he 
added,  with  a  bow  to  the  Spaniard. 

The  latter  bowed  in  return,  and  curling  his  moustache 
fiercely,  he  strode  away,  shaking  his  fist  in  the  air. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

THE  CHALLENGE — A   PROFESSIONAL   DUELLIST — TRICKS   OF  FENCE 
JACK  AND  HIS  MAITRE-o'ARMES. 

"WELL,  Jack,  this  is  bad.  What  would  your  poor 
father  say  if  he  knew  about  it  ?  "  said  Harry  Girdwood, 
utterly  dismayed  ;  ' '  it's  a  dreadful  job. " 

"A  rum  go,  isn't  it?  " 

"A  rum  go,"  cried  his  companion.  "  Oh,  Jack,  Jack, 
whatever  will  you  do  ?  " 

Jack  stared. 

"  Do  ?     What  would  you  do  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  right  you  should  fight  this  Carlist  brute.  I 
should  bolt." 

"Bolt,"  echoed  Jack.  "Yes,  I  think  I  see  myself; 
why,  Harry,  you  old  fibber,  to  say  you'd  bolt.  Why, 
you  would  have  wanted  to  fight  it  out  then  and  there." 

"It  is  madness,  Jack.  I  tell  you  that  this  meeting 
must  not  take  place." 

' '  Now  don't  be  obstinate,  Harry, "  said  Jack,  angrily. 
"What,  would  you  have  me  turn  coward  before  this 
bully  !  No,  Harry,  no  wretched  Spaniard  shall  have 
the  chance  of  saying  that  he  frightened  young  Jack 
Harkaway." 

This  closed  the  conversation. 

They  walked  back  to  the  hotel  *n  utter  silence. 

"Let  us  look  at  his  card,"  said  Harry  Girdwood. 

This  was  the  first  word  spoken  between  them. 

Jack  handed  over  the  card. 

"Don  Gil  Perez." 

"  He's  a  pretty  don,"  said  Harry. 

Young  Jack  turned  to  his  friend  and  silently  held  out 
his  hand. 

"Come,  come,  Harry,  old  man,"  said  he;  '*  we  mustn't 
have  any  bad  feeling  over  this  job. " 


174  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

Harry  returned  his  grip  with  heartiness. 

"  111  feeling  !  "  said  he  with  deep  emotion.  "Heaven 
forbid  that  any  thing  should  make  ill-feeling  between  you 
and  me." 

The  Cockney  waiter  came  in  just  then  with  a  card  on  a 
salver. 

"A  gent  is  a- waiting  below,  sir,"  said  he,  with  a  myste- 
rious air ;  "  aCarlist  officer,  I  should  say,  sir,  by  the  looks 
of  him. " 

Jack  took  the  card. 

"  'Don  Miguel  Basten.      Whoever  is  that?" 

"Someone  from  the  other  don,  I  suppose,"  said  Harry. 

"By  jingo!"  said  Jack,  with  a  laugh,  "the  Spaniard 
means  righting  ;  well,  I'll  fight  him,  and  he  shall  find 
young  Jack  Harkaway  a  true  Boy  of  England." 

'  Will  you  see  this  gentleman,  sir  ?  "  asked  the  waiter. 
Of  course.     Show  him  in,"  replied  Jack. 
'Yes,  sir." 

'And  come  back  with  him,  waiter,"  said  Harry. 
Yes,  sir." 

'We  shall  want  you  to  interpret  for  us." 
'All  right,  sir." 

A  moment  after  the  waiter  returned,  ushering  in  a 
Spanish  officer. 

Don  Miguel  Basten  was  a  fine,  soldier-like  man,  well 
advanced  in  years,  with  close-cropped  grey  hair,  and  a 
thick  grey  moustache. 

He  doffed  his  cap  on  entering,  and  bowed  low  to  the 
tw«  lads. 

"Will  you  say  that  it  is  Sefior  John  Harkaway  that  I 
wish  to  see  ?  "  said  he  to  the  waiter. 

"This  is  Sefior  Harkaway,  captain,"  replied  the  waiter, 
waving  his  hand  towards  Jack. 

"  Impossible ;  he  is  only  a  boy.  It  must  be  his  father 
I  have  come  to  see." 

This  was  translated  to  Jack,  who  had,  however,  given 
a  pretty  shrewd  guess  at  what  was  meant. 

"No.  Tell  Don  Miguel  Basten  that  my  father  is  in 
England,  and  that  I  am  the  person. " 

This  was  duly  translated  by  the  waiter. 

"It  is  very  strange,"  said  the  officer.  "  The  Sefior 
Harkaway  is  very  young. " 

"Yes,  sefior." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  1 7 5 

'  Ask  him  if  he  comes  from  Don  Gil  Perez,"  said  Jack. 

'  Gil  Perez  ?  " 

'Yes." 

'  Do  you  know  him,  sir?  " 

'Slightly." 

The  waiter  put  on  a  frightened  look,  which  they  could 
not  very  well  understand. 

"Si  si,"  said  the  Carlist  officer,  with  a  nod  of  intelligence 
at  Jack.  "  I  have  the  honour  to  come  on  behalf  of  Don 
Gil  Perez." 

"At  your  service,  senor,"  said  Jack,  bowing  politely. 

"  Tell  the  young  English  gentleman,"  said  the  officer, 
"that  he  has  gravely  affronted  Don  Gil  Perez,  and  that  no 
apology  is  possible." 

The  waiter  looked  aghast  at  this  message. 

"My  hi,  sir,"  he  exclaimed,  "this  is  a  precious  go. 
Why,  you've  been  and  had  a  rumpus  with  the  most  noto- 
rious duellist  and  the  very  worst  bully  in  the  Carlist  army. 
Oh,  my  !  " 

Jack  smiled. 

"  He  says  that  no  apology  is  possible." 

"I  never  intended  an  apology." 

The  waiter  looked  more  frightened  than  ever. 

"Translate  that,  do  you  hear  ?"  said  Jack  sharply. 

"But,  sir,  consider  ;  this  Don  Perez  is  a  dreadful  man 
with  all  weapons,  and " 

"Do  what  I  tell  you,  or  leave  the  room,"  said  Jack. 

He  obeyed. 

The  officer  pursed  his  brows. 

"I  did  not  mean  that,"  he  said.  "I  meant  that  it 
would  be  impossible  for  us  to  accept  an  apology.  But  the 
senor  is  very  young " 

"Old  enough  to  take  my  own  part,"  responded  Jack. 

"Very  good,"  said  Don  Miguel.  "Then,  with  the 
deepest  regret,  I  have  to  arrange  the  preliminaries." 

"As  you  please,  sir." 

"  Your  weapons  !  " 

"Yours,  senor?" 

"  Sword  or  pistol  ?  " 

"I  am  equally  good,  or  bad,  at  both,"  replied  young 
Jack.  ' '  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  fighting  duels.  So  if  Don 
Miguel  Basten  will  make  all  arrangements  for  us,  he  may 
consider  them  as  accepted  in  advance." 


176  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

This  was  translated  by  the  waiter. 

"One  word  before  we  go  any  further, " said  the  officer, 
who  had  been  eyeing  young  Harkaway  with  considerable 
interest.  "  I  said  an  apology  was  impossible.  Now,  my 
principal  is  a  noted  duelist,  a  dead  shot,  and  one  of  the 
keenest  blades  in  the  army  of  his  Catholic  majesty.  In 
consideration  of  the  Senor  Inglese's  youth,  I  will  under- 
take to  insist  upon  an  apology  being  accepted,  if  Senor 
Harkaway  will  make  one." 

"Impossible,"  returned  Jack,  hastily.  "I  am  an 
Englishman,  senor,  and  hold  my  honour  as  dearly  as  any 
Spaniard  born." 

' '  Senor, "  returned  the  officer,  ' '  your  courage  does  you 
honour,  and  I  wish  this  painful  task  had  devolved  upon 
anybody  but  me.  Swords,  then,  at  six  in  the  morning." 

"Where?" 

lt  In  the  valley  beyond  the  church." 

"I  will  be  there,  sefior." 

"Is  this  young  gentleman  your  friend?"  asked  the 
officer,  bowing  to  Harry  Girdwood. 

"Yes." 

"  I  shall  have  the  painful  honour  of  meeting  you  both, 
then,"  said  the  Spaniard,  bowing  once  more.  "  Before  I 
go,  young  gentleman,"  he  added,  advancing  a  step 
towards  Jack,  "  allow  me  the  pleasure  of  shaking  hands 
with  you,  for  you  are  a  brave  lad. " 

"  With  great  pleasure,"  returned  Jack  courteously. 

They  shook  hands,  and  Don  Miguel  Basten,  after  look- 
ing once  more  at  Jack,  bowed  himself  out. 


' '  Well,  I'm  jiggered  !  "  exclaimed  the  waiter.  '  *  You've 
been  and  gone  and  done  it,  Mr.  Harkaway,  you  have. 
Oh,  how  you'll  get  run  through,  sir." 

"Is  it  such  a  very  poor  lookout  for  me,  then  ?"  asked 
Jack,  with  a  smile. 

"You  may  as  well  say  your  prayers  and  order  your 
coffin,  sir,  that's  all." 

"You're  a  nice  Job's  comforter,"  laughed  Jack. 

"Why,  this  beast  of  a  Gil  Perez  has  spitted  about  a 
dozen  within  the  last  month  ;  he's  without  exception,  the 
one  cove,  sir,  that  you  ought  to  have  avoided.  He's  a 
devil,  sir." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  177 

"I  can't  help  that ;  it's  done  and  can't  be  undone  now. 
You  can't  unnerve  me  by  any  talk,  so  don't  try  it  on." 

"Don't  say  that,  sir.  I'd  give  a  year's  perks,  sir,  to 
see  you  lard  him  well,  the  Spanish  beast,  but  there's  no 
chance  of  it." 

'  What  do  they  understand  by  swords  ?  " 
'Rapiers." 

I  wish  it  was  broadsword — cut  and  thrust " 
'  Why,  sir  ?  " 
I  know  the  exercise." 

The  waiter  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  burst  into 
a  laugh. 

"That's  not  half  a  bad  idea,  sir.  Take  your  sword 
with  you.  The  choice  was  with  you  ;  you  said  swords, 
but  you  didn't  stipulate  what  kind.  Insist  upon  your  cut- 
and-thrust  cove,  and  Don  Gil  Perez  may  be  took  at  a  dis- 
advantage. Oh,  what  larks  it  would  be  to  see  a  young 
English  gentleman  like  you  spit  this  brute  of  a  Spaniard." 

"Do  they  never  fight  with  any  thing  but  rapiers ? " 

"  Not  often.  I've  seen  many  a  duel,  sir  ;  two  or  three 
with  the  cut-and-thrusters,  but  they're  blessed  awkward 
at  it.  They  have  only  one  cut  and  one  guard,  as  far  as  I 
can  see." 

"  Do  you  know  it?" 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  can  show  it  you  in  half  a  crack,  and 
proud  I  am  of  the  honour,  sir." 

"You  seem  up  to  a  great  many  things,"  said  Harry 
Gird  wood.  "  How  did  you  learn  this  ?  " 

"  I've  been  in  the  army  here,  sir." 

"  The  deuce  you  have.'' 

"  I  was  in  the  army  in  England,  and  my  time  was  out, 
so  I  came  travelling  here  with  my  master,  poor  chap ; 
he  was  an  officer  in  my  regiment,  and  travelling  here  on 
half-pay  when  he  got  the  fever  in  Cadiz  and  it  took  him 
off.  That's  three  years  ago.  I  was  left  without  any  re- 
sources, so  I  enlisted  in  the  national  army  for  three  years. 
When  they  was  up,  I  came  on  here,  and,  being  hard  up, 
got  a  billet  here  as  waiter." 

"  What  an  extraordinary  career,"  exclaimed  Jack.  "  I 
never  heard  of  a  soldier  being  waiter  before. " 

' '  What's  the  odds  as  long  as  you're  happy  ?  I  don't 
care  much  for  the  place,  but  it's  vittles  and  drink,  besides 
occasional  pickings,  an'  so  I  manage  to  grub  along." 

12 


1 78  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"  Well,"  said  Jack,  "  now  for  this  famous  guard." 

The  Cockney  soldier-waiter  got  a  walking-stick,  and 
showed  them  several  tricks  of  fence. 

"If  you  don't  mind  a  slight  sabre-cut  on  the  shoulder, 
you  can  spit  your  man  like  a  herring." 

"How?" 

"This  way.  They  cut  down  thus — it's  a  vicious  cut, 
meant  to  break  your  guard — you  mustn't  attempt  to  parry 
it,  but  jump  in  under  it.  You're  nimble  enough,  I  see,  a 
good  deal  more  so  than  Mr.  Bully  Gil  Perez.  .  Run  in 
sharp  as  soon  as  you're  engaged,  and  you  have  him  as 
safe  as  eggs  is  eggs.  Oh,  my  eye  !  I  should  be  glad." 

Jack  appeared  to  be  satisfied,  but  Harry  was  less  con- 
fident. 

"Very  well,"  said  Jack.  "  Now  we'll  get  to  bed,  for  I 
want  to  be  up  at  five.  I  shouldn't  like  to  be  late,  or  go 
on  the  field  sleepy  at  all.  Stay,  in  case  any  thing  should 
happen  to  me,  here's  a  trifle  to  remember  me,  for  you 
seem  kind." 

The  waiter  put  back  young  Harkaway's  hand  firmly, 
but  politely. 

"Not  to-night,  sir." 

' '  What !     You're  not  proud. " 

"Not  I,  sir,"  returned  the  waiter.  "Pride  wouldn't 
well  become  one  who  lives  upon  tips.  No,  sir,  good  luck 
to  you.  Wait  till  the  job's  over  and  then  double  it." 

"That's  a  bargain,"  said  Jack. 

"That's  business,"  said  Harry  Girdwood,  laughing,  in 
spite  of  himself,  for  his  heart  was  as  heavy  as  lead. 

"Good-night." 

"Good-night,  gents,  both  of  you.  Rise  with  a  steady 
hand  and  stout  heart,  and  may  good  luck  attend  you  in 
the  morning." 

"Amen  to  that  !  "  said  Harry  Girdwood,  fervently. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  179 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

THE     DUEL     IN   THE     VALLEY — THE     FACE-GUARD     AND     HOW  IT 
TOLD — STRUCK    HOME — THE   ENGLISH   DIVER. 

A  KNOCK  at  the  door. 

"Come  in." 

"Five  o'clock,  sir." 

"So  soon?  " 

Jack  had  slept  like  a  top. 

Poor  Harry  Girdwood  had  hardly  closed  his  eyes  the 
livelong  night,  and  when  he  had  snatched  a  little  fitful 
slumber,  he  had  dreamt  dreadfully. 

His  visions  were  all  of  men  slain  in  single  combat. 

Fierce  Spaniards  slaughtering  inexperienced  duellists, 
and  these  pallid  men  stretched  upon  the  ground,  with  the 
life-blood  oozing  slowly  from  gaping  wounds. 

Such  were  the  visions  which  poor  Harry  had,  and  he 
was  not  sorry  when  the  time  arrived  to  be  moving. 

Young  Jack  sprang  from  his  bed  and  slipped  into  his 
garments  as  hurriedly  as  possible.  Harry  Girdwood  fol- 
lowed suit. 

But  he  failed  to  display  the  same  alacrity  in  his  move- 
ments. 

Slowly  and  fearfully  he  prepared  for  this  terrible  busi- 
ness. 

"Look  sharp,  Harry." 

"All  right,  Jack,  my  dear  boy." 

Harry  did  not  believe  that  there  was  much  chance  for 
his  brave  comrade  ;  yet  such  as  there  was,  he  wished 
him  to  profit  by  to  the  uttermost ;  and  so  he  tried  with 
all  his  might  to  disguise  his  own  unpleasant  feelings  upon 
the  matter. 

At  length  they  were  ready  to  start. 

•  "Harry,"  said  Jack,  earnestly,    "tip  us  your  fin,  old 
man." 

Harry  silently  extended  his  hand. 

"Come,  come,  old  sobersides,  you  mustn't  be  down- 
hearted, or  I  shall  go  into  action  with  a  heavy  heart,  and 
that  won't  improve  my  chance." 


1 80  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"I'm  as  cheerful  as  I  can  be,  but  you  wouldn't  have 
me  feel  downright  happy,  Jack,  would  you  ?  " 

"I  tell  you  what,  Harry,  I'm  as  good  as  a  hundred 
dead  men  yet.  I've  a  presentiment  that  I  shall  pull 
through  this  job  as  I  have  many  a  worse  one  before.  I 
don't  fear  the  bully  Spaniard. " 

"No,  Jack.     Keep  your  pluck  up." 

"Now,  Harry,"  said  Jack,  "when  you  are  quite 
ready." 

"Now." 

"Come  on." 

"You  have  nothing  to  say,  Tack,  before  we  start?  " 

"  No." 


They  were  first  on  the  field. 

However,  they  had  not  long  to  wait,  for  in  less  than 
three  minutes,  Don  Gil  Perez  was  seen  advancing,  lean- 
ing upon  the  arm  of  two  brother  officers,  Don  Miguel 
Basten  and  a  stranger. 

Close  upon  their  heels  came  two  more  men. 

The  first  of  them  was  the  waiter  from  the  hotel. 

The  other  was  a  thick-set,  pale-faced  man,  with  a  sort 
of  semi-sailor  cut  about  him. 

The  former  saluted  Jack  and  his  companion  with  the 
grave  dignity  peculiar  to  the  Spanish  people. 

The  latter  advanced  towards  Jack  and  Harry,  saluting 
them  as  they  approached. 

"I  thought  I'd  like  to  look  on  and  see  fair  play,  sir," 
said  the  waiter,  touching  his  hat  "I  am  not  a  bad 
swordsman,  and  if  there  should  be  foul  play  on  the  part 
of  these  dons,  I'll  stand  by  you,  sir." 

"Thank  you,  and  who  have  you  brought  with  you?" 
said  Jack. 

"A  fellow-countryman  of  ours.  The  diver  who  has 
been  sent  for  to  go  down  to  the  '  Albatross. ' " 

"  Indeed,"  said  Harry  Girdwood,  turning  to  the  diver. 
"  So  you  are  an  Englishman  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sorr,"  replied  the  diver,  "  an'  it's  proud  I  am  of 
that  same,  sorr. " 

"Well,  we  won't  say  English  altogether,"  said  Jack, 
smiling,  "a  Briton,  at  all  events." 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER.  181 

"Yes,  sorr." 

"Dublin?" 

"County  Gal  way,  sorr,  at  your  sarvice,"  returned  the 
diver,  with  a  salute. 

"And  have  you  come  to  see  fair  play,  too? " 

"Ye  may  say  that,  an'  be  jabers,  I'll  see  it;  the  mur- 
therin'  bosthoon.  Give  half  a  worrd,  sorr,  an'  I'll  wire 
into  the  lot  of  'em  at  oncet." 

Jack  laughed. 

"  There's  no  need  for  that  at  present,  thanks,"  he  said  ; 
"he's  trod  on  the  tail  of  my  coat  at  present.  You  can 
wire  in  when  I've  had  my  turn." 

"You're  a  fine  boy,  anyhow."  exclaimed  the  diver,  in 
undisguised  admiration.  "  I  hope  as  there'll  be  little  left 
of  the  omadhauns  for  me  to  pound  away  at  by  the  time 
you've  done  with  'em." 

"  I'm  only  going  to  fight  with  one  of  them,"  replied 
Jack,  with  mock  gravity  ;  "there'll  be  plenty  for  you  to 
peg  away  at  afterwards." 

"Hurrah  !  "  cried  the  Irishman,  "that's  balm  to  one's 
feelings,  anyhow." 

The  others  drew  near. 

Don  Gil  Perez  had  divested  himself  of  hat,  cloak  and 
coat,  and  he  stood  ready  in  his  shirt  sieves. 

Jack  speedily  followed  suit. 

Harry  Girdwood  handed  Jack  his  weapon. 

Then  it  was  for  the  first  time  that  Don  Miguel  dis- 
covered tae  difference  in  the  swords,  and  he  at  once  inter- 
fered. 

"  Sefior  Harkaway  understood  that  the  combat  was  to 
be  with  sabres,  Don  Miguel,"  said  the  waiter,  pretending 
to  interpret. 

The  notorious  duellist  curled  his  lip  scornfully  when 
this  was  told  him. 

"The  English  boy  is  laughing  at  us,"  he  said.  "  He 
only  wants  a  pretext  to  save  his  skin." 

"No  pretext,  senor,"  replied  the  waiter,  promptly. 
"Sefior  Harkaway  remarks  that  the  gentleman  beside 
you  wears  a  sabre.  He  says,  too,  that  any  weapon  is 
indifferent  to  him. " 

"The  sabre  be  it  then,"  said  Don  Miguel;  "  and  let 
him  consider  he  has  not  five  minutes  to  live." 

The  officer  who  had  accompanied  them  handed  Don 


i82  YOUNG  fACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

Gil  Perez  his  sabre,  and  the  latter  cut  the  air  viciously 
with  it  to  try  its  temper. 

' '  He  looks  as  if  he'd  like  to  make  sassengers  of  the 
whole  biling  of  us,"  said  the  diver,  with  a  comical  gri- 
mace. 

They  were  now  about  to  give  the  signal  to  engage, 
when  Don  Miguel  advanced  to  his  principal's  side,  and 
said  something  to  him  in  a  low  tone. 

"A  brave  lad,  you  say,"  returned  the  duellist,  coarsely, 
"  and  spare  him  !  Bah  !  he  has  sought  it,  and  he  must 
pay  the  penalty.  His  mother's  tears  should  not  save  him 
now.  I  will  have  the  English  dog's  life." 

He  hoped  that  his  adversary  would  hear  it,  and  that 
this  gentlemanly  speech  would  serve  to  unnerve  him  for 
the  combat. 

But  he  just  forgot  that  Jack  did  not  understand  a  word 
that  was  said. 

The  military  Cockney  waiter  did,  however,  and  he 
turned  away  in  disgust. 

' '  Beast ! "  he  muttered. 

"Ready?" 

"  Yes." 

"Remember  your  face-guard,  sir,"  said  the  waiter, 
quietly,  "Hold  your  elbow  low,  keep  the  hilt  of  your 
sword  straight  between  your  eyes.  He's  a  powerful  and 
wicked  brute.  If  he  tries  to  break  down  your  guard  by 
mere  force,  don't  attempt  to  parry,  but  leap  aside,  and 
give  him  your  point — not  too  high,  for  I  don't  think  you 
could  get  it  into  him  about  the  chest" 

The  honest  waiter's  meaning  became  apparent  after  the 
contest  was  over. 

You  will  see  how. 

"On  guard!" 

The  swords  clashed,  and  the  Spaniard  began  by  a  des- 
perate down  cut,  which  Jack,  remembering  his  instruc- 
tions, leapt  aside  to  avoid,  and  boring  suddenly  in,  down 
went  the  brutal  duellist  with  a  gasp. 

"  Hit !  "  cried  the  waiter. 

"Spitted,  byjabers  !" 

"  Caramba  !  " 

"  Maledicion  /"  cried  the  wounded  combatant. 

And  staggering  up,  sword  in  hand,  he  made  a  step 
forward  as  if  to  cleave  his  young  adversary  to  the  earth, 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  183 

but  ere  he  could  reach  him,  Jack  passed  his  sword  through 
his  side.  The  Spaniard,  with  a  groan,  tottered,  and  fell 
again  in  a  deadly  faint. 

Jack  at  once  dropped  his  sword,  and  ran  forward. 

"I  hope  he  is  not  badly  hurt,"  he  said,  dropping  on 
one  knee  by  the  side  of  the  wounded  man. 

The  officer  whose  sabre  Don  Gil  Perez  had  borrowed 
for  the  combat  proved  to  be  a  military  surgeon. 

He  examined  the  wound,  and  speedily  relieved  all  anx- 
iety upon  this  head. 

"  An  ugly  wound.  Care  and  rest  only  required,"  he 
said. 

"I'm  heartily  glad  of  that, "said  Jack,  with  a  deep- 
drawn  sigh  of  relief. 

Having  assured  himself  of  his  principal's  safety,  Don 
Miguel  Basten  beckoned  the  waiter  to  his  side. 

"Tell  the  young  Inglese  from  me  that  he  has  conducted 
himself  like  a  brave  lad — that  he  is  an  honour  to  his  name 
and  to  his  country,  and  that  if  he  wants  a  friend  while 
here,  he  may  count  upon  Miguel  Basten." 

"I  will,  senor." 

"And  tell  him  also  that  the  sooner  he  is  away  from 
this  place  now,  the  better  it  will  be.  I  wish  the  brave 
boy  well." 

This  was  translated  to  young  Jack  who  bowed  his 
acknowledgments,  and  having  resumed  his  jacket, 
started,  with  his  friends  towards  his  hotel 


CHAPTER  XXXVIIL 

THE  VICTOR'S  RETURN — BULL  RUNNING THE  ORPHAN  IS  IN 

TROUBLE  AGAIN. 

' '  HARRY  GIRDWOOD  was  now  radiant  with  smiles. 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Harry?"  said  the  successful 
combatant. 

"There's  a  sweet  little  cherub  that  sits  up  aloft.  You 
know  the  rest." 

"I  do." 

"An  illigant  fight,"  said  the  diver,  "but  the  fun  was 
precious  soon  over. " 


1 84  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HA  RKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Come  home  with  us,"  said  Jack.  "You're  going 
down  to  the  wreck  this  morning  ?  " 

"Yes,  sorr." 

"  I  can  give  you  a  job." 

"Can  you,  though?  Ye're  good  at  giving  jobs,  your 
honour,  axing  yer  pardon.  Ye've  give  that  mossoo  don 
a  job  in  the  stimmick  that'll  want  a  deal  of  mending." 

"  Well,  the  beast  deserved  it,  but  now  let  us  come  to 
breakfast, "said  Harry. 

"With  all  my  heart,  yer  honour." 

"  I've  not  done  a  bad  morning's  work  either,"  said  the 
military  waiter.  "I  did  well  to  make  my  bargain  last 
night. " 

"  You  did,"  said  Jack,  "  and  I'll  treble  the  tip,  my  boy, 
for  you're  an  honest  fellow,  and  a  true  Englishman.  And 
now  for  breakfast." 

And  a  capital  breakfast  it  was,  although  rather  foreign 
in  its  elements,  to  which  young  Jack  and  Harry  Girdvvood 
sat  down  on  their  return  from  the  duel. 

Need  we  say  that  being  blest  with  healthy  English 
appetites,  they  did  ample  justice  to  it  ? 

"What  is  that  fellow  doing  over  the  way  ?  "  said  Harry, 
when  the  edge  of  his  appetite  was  pretty  well  blunted. 

As  he  spoke,  he  pointed  to  a  very  shabby-looking 
Spaniard,  who  was  plastering  some  gaudy  strips  of 
coloured  paper  to  the  wall  of  a  house  opposite. 

"  Looks  like  a  bill-sticker,"  replied  Jack. 

"Then  let  him  beware." 

The  two  youths  continued  to  watch  him  till  he  had 
almost  covered  the  side  of  the  building  with  an  immense 
advertisement  which,  being  at  least  ten  times  as  large 
as  any  thing  else  of  that  kind  in  the  town,  was  evidently 
some  announcement  of  great  importance. 

"Waiter,"  shouted  Jack,  ringing  the  bell. 

"  Yessir,  comin',  sir,"  responded  the  English  attendant. 
"Some  more  wine,  sir?  We  have  very  nice  garlic  and 
donkey  sausages,  sir,  if  you  would  like  some  just  to  finish 
off  with,  or  will  you  take  some  holives,  gemmen  ?  " 

"Pah!  nothing  of  the  kind.  We  want  to  know  what 
that  big  bill  is  about. " 

"A  bull-fight— sir." 

"A  bull-fight,  when?  " 

"  At  two  o'clock  to-morrow,  sir." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  185 

"They  don't  advertise  it  long  beforehand,"  observed 
Harry. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,  they  have  had  smaller  bills  out  for  a 
week  or  more." 

' '  Shall  we  go,  Harry  ? "  asked  young  Jack. 

"Don't  much  care  about  it,  after  all  I've  read  on  the 
subject,  but  I  suppose  being  in  Spain,  we  must  do  as  the 
Spaniards  do.  How  far  is  it  to  the  arena  ?  " 

"  Haifa  mile,  sir  ;  you  can't  mistake  the  road  ;  all  you 
has  to  do  is  foller  the  crowd  ;  and  if  yer  consciences 
should  be  unheasy,  gemmen,  remember  this  'ere  bull-fight 
is  for  the  benefit  of  the  hospital  of  San  Carlos,  so  you'll  be 
doin'  good  to  the  poor  by  going." 

Now  it  may  be  taken  for  granted  that  all  Spaniards  are 
fond  of  their  national  pastime  of  the  bull-fight,  but  it  is 
also  a  fact  that  in  all  towns  where  such  sport  is  supported, 
there  is  a  number  of  poor  people  who  are  unable  to  pay 
for  admission  to  the  arena.  Therefore,  for  the  gratifica- 
tion of  these  humble  folk,  it  is  customary  to  exhibit  the 
bulls  publicly  the  day  before  the  fight. 

This  public  exhibition  of  the  animals  takes  place  in  the 
following  fashion. 

The  bulls  having  been  driven  down  from  the  mountains, 
are  pastured  in  some  meadows  belonging  to  the  author- 
ities, till  the  evening  before  the  fight,  when  they  are 
driven  thence  through  the  chief  streets  to  the  stalls,  or 
torril,  of  the  arena. 

All  the  lower  classes  go  to  witness  this  gratuitous  ex- 
hibition— called  the  encierro — to  speculate  on  the  qualities 
and  condition  of  the  animals,  and  the  prospect  of  their 
showing  good  sport 

These  ragamuffins  of  the  town  also  contrive  to  make 
a  little  sport  for  themselves,  for  they  yell  like  fiends,  flutter 
their  tattered  cloaks,  throw  stones,  and  freely  use  their 
cudgels  on  the  semi-savage  cattle,  which  thus  get  a  nice 
foretaste  of,  the  tortures  that  await  them. 

But  to  return  to  Jack  and  Harry. 

By  the  time  they  had  finished  their  breakfast,  the  sun 
was  so  powerful  that  they  did  not  care  to  venture  out,  so 
they  read,  lounged,  and  dozed  till  the  afternoon,  when 
the  sound  of  an  unusual  concourse  of  people  in  the  street 
drew  them  to  the  window. 

"What's  up,  Jack  ?  "  asked  Harry. 


1 86  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"Can't  say,  old  boy,  unless  it  is  another  revolution. 
Ask  the  waiter." 

The  question  having  been  put,  they  received  the  ex- 
planation given  above  ;  and  being  informed  that  the  bulls 
would  probably  pass  in  front  of  the  hotel,  they  drew  their 
chairs  out  to  the  balcony  to  witness  the  fun. 

"Look  at  that  fellow,  Harry,"  said  young  Jack,  point- 
ing to  a  man,  whose  coarse  hair  was  visible  through  the 
crown  of  his  broad  hat,  whose  scanty  jacket  betrayed  his 
want  of  shirt,  whose  breeches  were  woefully  tattered,  but 
who,  nevertheless,  wore  his  cloak  gracefully  draped  over 
his  shoulder,  with  as  jaunty  an  air  as  though  he  had  been 
a  grandee  of  the  bluest  blood. 

Both  lads  burst  into  loud  laughter  at  the  sight  of  this 
figure. 

"  A  fourth-rate  Don  Quixote,"  exclaimed  Harry.  "  Ha, 
ha,  ha  !  his  dignity  is  wounded  by  our  merriment." 

The  object  of  their  mirth, hearing  the  sound  of  laughter, 
looked  up,  and  perceiving  that  they  were  laughing  at  him, 
scowled  most  ferociously. 

Of  course  this  only  increased  the  mirth  of  our  hero  and 
his  friend  Harry. 

"  He'd  make  the  fortune  of  any  East  End  theatre,"  ex- 
claimed Jack.  "  See,  there's  an  attitude  for  you. " 

The  man  was  shaking  his  fist  and  (although  the  lads 
did  not  understand  him)  evidently  swearing  most  furi- 
ously. 

Finding  this  no  use,  however,  he  threw  his  cloak  over 
his  shoulder  and  stalked  away. 

"Jack,  do  you  know  that  fellow?" 

"Not  I.     Do  you?" 

"  I've  seen  him  before,  I  feel  certain,  but  I  can't  re- 
member where  or  when  it  was.  He  looks  like  a  villain." 

"He  be  hanged!  don't  puzzle  your  brains  about  him, 
Harry,  but  look  out,  for  here  come  the  bulls." 

The  roars  and  snouts  of  the  crowd  were  deafening  as 
the  four  fine  animals  came  along  the  street. 

One  was  deep  red  or  dun  in  colour,  another  a  light 
grey,  and  a  third  black  and  white. 

These  three  went  along  tolerably  quiet,  but  the  fourth 
was  a  fierce-looking  brute,  with  narrow  flanks,  deep 
chest,  a  tangled  mass  of  hair  over  his  eyes,  and  a  skin 
black  as  night. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER,  187 

On  seeing  him  the  multitude  at  once  saluted  him  as  El 
Diablo,  the  devil,  and  a  devilish  temper  he  exhibited  cei- 
tainly. 

"Bravo  !"  shouted  the  multitude,  and  by  way  of  re- 
sponse, the  bull  turned  and  made  a  savage  rush  at  one 
fellow. 

The  crowd  shrieked  and  swayed  backwards,  and  some 
of  the  weaker  were  trodden  under  foot. 

"By  Jove!  old  fellow,  this  is  dangerous  work,"  ex- 
claimed Jack. 

"They  want  a  few  of  our  Australian  stock-driving 
friends  here,"  responded  Harry. 

Now  it  so  happened  that  in  the  crowd  was  no  less  a 
person  than  our  old  friend  the  orphan. 

Mr.  Figgins  had  gone  out,  not  to  see  the  bulls,  but  to 
look  at  the  town  and  pick  up  an  idea  or  two  as  to 
how  his  trade  was  managed  in  the  native  home  of  the 
orange. 

Luckless  Mr.  Figgins  !  he  managed  to  get  back  into  the 
the  main  street  just  as  the  black  bull  El  Diablo  made  his 
rush. 

With  head  down,  and  eyes  blinded  by  the  shaggy  hair 
that  fell  over  them,  the  savage  brute  charged  in  a  direct 
line  along  the  street,  the  people  opening  out  and  crowd- 
ing into  doorways  so  as  to  form  a  clear  course. 

The  course  was  cleared,  but  the  orphan  was  left,  like 
the  dog  that  always  appears  on  an  English  racecourse, 
and  the  bull  getting  an  indistinct  view  of  him,  uttered  a 
deep  roar  and  charged  at  him  headlong. 

Away  flew  the  orphan  at  full  speed,  the  bull  pursuing, 
but  a  glance  over  his  shoulder  soon  convinced  him  that 
he  could  not  escape  by  swiftness,  so  he  turned  sharply 
and  tried  to  dodge  the  infuriated  animal. 

"Oh,  dear,  oh,  dear,"  said  the  orphan;  "I  thought  I 
travelled  for  pleasure,  b»t  this  is  any  thing  but  fun  for  me. 
Oh,  you  horrid  beast  ;  oh,  oh  !  " 

The  bull  was  too  quick  for  him,  and  in  a  moment  threw 
Mr.  Figgins  on  a  huge  heap  of  vegetable  refuse,  cabbage 
leaves,  and  such  like,  that  had  been  swept  out  of  the 
market-place. 

Into  this  heap  of  rubbish  he  sank  deeply,  but  he  had 
sufficient  presence  of  mind  to  throw  a  few  of  the  cabbage 
leaves  over  him,  so  as  to  conceal  his  body  from  the 


1 88  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

savage  creature,  otherwise  he  would  certainly  have  been 
gored. 

Not  seeing  his  enemy,  but  discovering  some  cabbage 
leaves  that  were  not  quite  rotten,  the  bull  began  to  feed 
upon  them. 

"Save  me!  Save  a  poor  orphan.  Help,  help,  help!" 
shouted  Figgins  from  beneath  his  verdant  coverlet  "The 
brute  is  devouring  me. " 

Loud  shouts  of  laughter  came  from  the  crowd,  and  El 
Diablo,  warned  by  the  sound  that  he  had  more  than  one 
enemy,  turned,  tossing  his  head,  pawing  the  ground,  and 
apparently  selecting  the  next  object  for  his  attack. 

"Look  at  our  orphan  friend,"  exclaimed  Jack,  who  had 
been  laughing  as  loudly  as  anyone  at  Mr.  Figgins' 
mishap. 

"Bravo!  orphan.  Well  done,  bull,''  shouted  Harry. 
"Tell  the  bull  you  are  a  poor  orphan,  Figgins,  and  he 
won't  have  the  heart  the  heart  to  touch  you." 

The  orphan  had  ventured  to  peep  out  from  his  hiding- 
place,  and  seeing  the  tail  of  the  bull  turned  towards  him, 
prepared  to  steal  away. 

With  the  greatest  caution  he  removed  the  leaves,  crept 
from  his  hiding-place,  and  darted  down  the  street,  towards 
the  hotel. 

He  had  gone  perhaps  fifteen  or  twenty  yards  when  El 
Diablo,  turning  round — probably  for  another  mouthful  of 
cabbage — perceived  his  enemy  running  away. 

Another  loud  roar,  and  with  tail  erect,  the  bull  gave 
chase. 

"  Oh,  mercy  !  why  did  I  ever  leave  my  happy  home  in 
London  ? "  shrieked  Figgins,  dodging  the  bull  and  turning 
back.  "Save  me,  someone.  Oh,  I  shall  feel  his  horns  in 
a  moment." 

"  I  must  save  him  ;  he  is  in  real  danger  now,"  exclaimed 
young  Jack.  "  Here  goes." 

And  snatching  up  the  sabre  with  which  he  fought  the 
Carlist,  he  took  a  flying  leap  from  the  balcony,  just  as  the 
hapless  orphan,  in  his  fright,  ran  past  the  hotel. 

"  Bravo,  viva  !  "  shouted  the  crowd,  as  they  saw  Jack 
safe  on  the  ground,  sword  in  hand,  place  himself  between 
the  bull  and  the  flying  man. 

The  monster,  paused  a  moment  on  seeing  his  new 
foe. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  189 

But  a  moment  after,  he  charged  with  reaouoied  vio- 
lence, not  at  the  orphan  this  time,  but  at  our  hero. 

Now  young  Jack  had  read  of  the  style  in  which  a 
Spanish  matador  slays  his  bull,  and  in  his  usual  dare-devil 
way,  resolved  to  show  the  people  that  an  English  lad 
could  do  the  trick. 

So,  as  the  bull  all  but  reached  him,  he  stepped 
nimbly  aside,  and  drove  the  blade  of  his  sabre  between 
the  bull's  shoulder  and  ribs. 

Snap ! 

The  blade  parted  at  the  hilt  and  Jack,  although  he 
struck  furiously  at  the  brute$  was  knocked  down  and 
stunned. 

"Have  a  care — have  a  care,"  shouted  the  people,  as 
the  bull,  in  spite  of  its  wound,  half  turned,  and  went  down 
on  its  knees  to  finish  the  brave  English  youth. 

But  Harry  Girdwood  by  this  time  was  close  at  hand, 
and  ere  the  sharp-pointed  horns  could  pierce  our  hero's 
body,  a  pistol  bullet  crashed  through  the  skull  of  El 
Diablo,  who  with  a  dull,  hollow  moan,  fell  dead. 

"  The  bull's  killed.  Bravo  !  "  shouted  the  crowd,  as 
they  closed  round. 

Then  rose  shouts  for  wine,  brandy,  and  water  for  young 
Jack. 

Some  of  the  latter  was  given  him  first,  then  a  drop  of 
brandy,  and  our  hero  was  once  more  on  his  feet. 

"  Thanks,  old  fellow,"  said  Jack,  warmly  pressing 
Harry's  hand.  "I  am  all  right,  now  ;  is  the  bull  dead  and 
the  orphan  safe  ? " 

"Oh,  Master  Jack,"  cried  the  orphan,  running  up; 
"you  have  saved  my  life  ;  you  are  better  than  a  mother 
to  me,  my  dear  boy." 

"I  was  doubtful  whether  I  should  be  in  time,"  said 
Harry.  ' '  But  are  you  sure  you  are  not  hurt,  Jack  ?  " 

"No  bones  broken.  Nothing  but  a  bruise  or  two,  and 
that  we  are  both  used  to  by  this  time." 

"Look,  Jack,  how  the  mob  is  getting  round  us ;  let's 
get  back  to  the  hotel." 

' '  All  right.     But  what  are  these  fellows  grumbling  at  ?  " 

The  temper  of  the  crowd  seemed  to  have  undergone  a 
sudden  change,  and  instead  of  applauding  the  gallantry 
of  the  two  English  lads,  the  people  began  to  abuse  them. 

"  They  have  slain  the  best  bull,"  shouted  some. 


igo  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

' '  Better  that  fifty  English  should  have  been  gored,  than 
we  deprived  of  our  sport,"  said  others. 

"Knock  'em  down,"  cried  an  English  voice.  "Kill 
'em  ;  they're  only  English  spies. " 

Jack  looked  round,  and  thought  he  caught  sight  of 
Chivey. 

Cudgels  were  flourished  in  a  very  threatening  manner, 
but  in  the  midst  of  the  uproar,  an  officer  of  the  municipal 
authorities,  who  had  provided  the  bulls  for  the  show, 
came  up. 

"You  are  foreigners,  senors  ?  "  said  this  man  in  broken 
English. 

"Yes,"  responded  Jack. 

"You  have  slain  the  best  of  the  bulls  provided  by 
the  council  of  the  town  for  to-morrow's  show,  and 
must,  therefore,  pay  the  sum  of  two  hundred  dollars  at 
once." 

"  What  for? "  demanded  Jack,  bluntly. 

"The  cost  of  the  animal  is  one  hundred  and  fifty 
dollars,  and  the  council  imposes  a  fine  of  fifty  dollars  on 
anyone  who  interrupts  or  prevents  the  public  sports." 

"I'll  see  the  council  hanged  first,"  exclaimed  young 
Jack,  indignantly.  "What,  pay  two  hundred  dollars 
because  my  brave  friend  here  saved  my  life  ?  You  go  to 
Bath  and  learn  how  to  shave  pigs." 

The  majority  of  the  mob  could  no  more  understand 
Jack's  speech  than  he  could  theirs  ;  but  they  guessed  from 
his  manner  that  it  was  nothing  very  complimentary. 

"  What  says  the  islander?  "  they  roared. 

And  when  the  municipal  officer  translated  our  hero's 
words  they  grew  furious. 

Knives  were  brandished  as  well  as  cudgels,  and  there 
arose  a  savage  cry  of — 

"Death!     Death  to  the  English  !" 

"Give  it  'em;  run  'em  in  again,"  cried  the  voice  of 
Chivey  from  the  background. 

Now  young  Jack  was  not  one  of  those  who,  on  receipt 
of  a  blow,  say — 

"  If  you  do  that  again,  I'll  strike  you." 

But  his  practise  was,  when  fighting  seemed  necessary 
and  could  not  be  honourably  avoided,  to  put  in  the  first 
blow — which  he  looked  upon  as  being  a  good  way  to- 
wards winning  the  battle. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  1 9 1 

So  now  finding  himself  menaced,  he  wasted  no  time 
in  words,  but  rushing  at  one  fellow,  snatched  away  his 
cudgel,  and  with  him  instantly  knocked  down  another  of 
the  mob. 

Harry  Girdwood  immediately  followed  suit. 

"Wire  in,  Jack." 

"  Go  ahead — but  keep  cool — don't  lose  your  nut." 

So  back  to  back  they  stood  defying  the  mob. 

The  municipal  officer  drew  his  sword,  but  Jack,  with- 
out any  ceremony,  knocked  it  out  of  his  hand  with  such 
force  that  the  blade  snapped. 

"There,  old  man,"  cried  Jack;  "get  a  better  sword 
when  you  again  stand  before  a  Boy  of  England." 

"Look  out,  Jack.  They  are  drawing  knives,"  said 
Harry. 

"The  cowardly  villains;  why,  they  are  a  hundred  to 
one,  now.  We  are  in  for  it,  Harry,  old  boy  ;  only  keep 
on  cracking  Spanish  nuts  as  long  as  you  can  lift  your 
stick." 

Harry  responded  by  dropping  a  weighty  blow  on  the 
head  of  a  ragamuffin,  who  was  pressing  in  upon  them, 
with  a  knife  only  half  concealed  in  his  tattered  coat- 
sleeve. 

"Take  that,  you  dirty  thief,"  he  said,  addressing  his 
fallen  foe,  who  not  being  quite  stunned,  had  sense 
enough  to  roll  away  among  the  feet  of  his  friends. 

The  others,  seeing  the  resolute  attitude  of  the  two 
youths,  drew  back  a  little,  not  quite  relishing  the  en- 
counter. 

"  Cowards,"  exclaimed  a  gruff  voice  from  the  back, 
"  are  you  going  to  be  beaten  by  two  boys  ?  " 

Jack  guessed  at  the  meaning  of  the  words,  and  shouted 
out — 

"If  the  gentleman  in  the  background  wants  any  thing, 
let  him  come  forward,  and  I  will  be  most  happy  to  oblige 
him. " 

Which  words  were  translated  for  the  benefit  of  the 
unseen  speaker  by  the  municipal  officer,  who  remained 
on  the  scene  of  battle,  though  he  prudently  kept  out  of 
the  reach  of  Jack's  cudgel. 

There  was  a  slight  commotion  in  the  crowd,  and  a 
burly  fellow,  a  butcher  by  trade,  pushed  his  way  to  the 
front. 


192  YOUNG  JACK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

He  had  in  one  hand  a  heavy  cudgel,  and  in  the  other  a 
long  knife,  used  in  his  business. 

"He's  a  toughish  customer,  Harry,  so  keep  the  crowd 
back  as  well  as  you  can,  while  I  have  a  crack  at  him. 
Oh,  if  dad  and  Uncle  Dick  were  here,  we'd  soon  make 
short  work  of  them. " 

So  saying,  Jack  made  a  step  forward,  and  at  once 
knocked  the  knife  out  of  the  rascal's  hand,  who  roared 
with  pain. 

"At  wrestling,  boxing,  or  singlestick  I  am  your  man," 
said  Jack  ;  but  before  he  could  give  his  adversary  a  speci- 
men of  either  art,  the  crowd  closed  in  upon  them. 

Jack  was  unable  to  use  his  cudgel,  but  he  struck  out 
with  his  hands  and  made  the  eyes  of  more  than  one 
Spaniard  blacker  than  nature  intended  them  to  be. 

"  How  goes  it,  Harry  ? "  he  found  time  to  ask. 

"  Plenty  to  do,  and  not  much  to  get  for  it.  Ease  off  a 
little,  if  you  can,  and  let  us  get  back  to  back." 

"Right,"  and  knocking  down  a  man  in  front  of  him, 
so  as  to  make  room,  young  Jack  placed  his  back  to 
Harry's,  and  there  they  stood  defying  the  whole  mob. 

By  this  time  the  butcher  had  recovered  his  courage  and 
his  knife. 

He  was  just  meditating  another  onslaught,  when  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  crowd  was  heard  a  loud  shout. 

"  Hurroo  !  Ould  Ireland  for  ever.  Faugh-a-ballah  ! 
Clear  the  road,  ye  dhirty  spalpeens,  bad  manners  to  the 
loikes  of  yez  !  " 

"Here's  Whitechapel  to  the  fore,  mates;  mind  yer 
eye,"  said  another  voice. 

"Will  ye  trid  on  the  tail  of  me  coat?  Come  out  o' 
that  now  and  foight,  ye  ill-looking  thief  o'  the  worrld." 

And  then  there  were  shrieks  and  curses  as  the  English 
waiter  from  the  hotel  and  his  friend,  the  diver,  forced 
their  way  through  the  crowd. 

"  Hurrah  for  Old  England  !  "  shouted  Jack,  and  making 
a  dash  forward,  he  hurled  to  the  ground  the  only  Spaniard 
who  stood  between  him  and  his  friends. 

"Safe,  Mr.  'Arkaway?"  asked  the  waiter. 

"All  right,  thank  you,"  responded  our  hero,  picking  up 
his  cudgel. 

"  Mr.  Girdwood  all  right  ? " 

<(  A  slight  cut  on  the  arm — nothing  worth  mentioning." 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER.  193 

"One  ihore  charge,  lads,  and  victory  is  ours.  Now, 
all  together." 

They  made  a  charge  forward,  and  the  Spaniards  scat- 
tered in  every  direction,  shouting  as  they  ran — 

"  Death !     Death  to  the  Inglese  !  " 

"Hot  work  while  it  lasted,  gemmen,"  observed  the 
waiter;  "but,  Lord,  them  fellows  is  no  use  whatever. 
They  lives  on  garlic,  and  the  strongest  thing  about  'em  is 
their  breath.  They  ain't  got  no  more  biceps  than  a  black 
beetle. " 

"Be  the  holy  piper,"  exclaimed  the  diver,  "I  belave 
I've  killed  one  of  the  ugly  gossoons.  Get  up,  ye 
murtherin'  villain,"  he  continued,  tickling  the  prostrate 
Spaniard's  ribs  with  his  toe,  ' '  get  up  and  tell  us  if  ye're 
dead  enough  to  be  afther  wantin'  a  coffin.'' 

The  man  was  not  dead,  for  he  started  to  his  feet,  and 
drawing  a  knife,  hurled  it  at  the  Irishman. 

The  missile  hissed  past  his  head,  and  stuck  quivering  in 
a  door  behind  him. 

"Death  to  the  English!"  shouted  the  man,  as  he 
started  off  at  full  speed  down  the  street. 

"Bad  cess  to  ye!"  shouted  the  Irishman,  shaking  his 
fist,  half  inclined  to  follow,  and  yet  restrained  by  what  he 
thought  his  duty — viz.,  a  determination  to  protect  our  hero. 

"That  was  a  narrow  escape,"  observed  Harry  Gird- 
wood. 

"A  miss  is  as  good  as  a  mile,  sorr.  But  I'll  be  afther 
knowin'  the  blackguard  again  if  I  meet  him,  and " 

The  man  gave  a  vicious  flourish  to  as  elegant  a  shille- 
lagh as  ever  grew  in  the  county  of  Wicklow  to  express 
what  would  happen  when  he  did  meet  that  Spaniard. 

' '  But  where  is  Mr.  Figgins  all  this  while  ?  "  asked  Tack. 
"We  had  better  look  about  for  him,  for  if  those  fellows 
get  hold  of  him,  they  will  carve  him  up  in  no  time." 

13 


1 94  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 


CHAPTER  XXXIX. 

THB  ORPHAN   FIGHTS   A  SINGLE  COMBAT — SUPPER — A  GRANDEE  0* 
SPAIN    APPEARS    ON    THE    SCENE. 

BUT  where  was  the  luckless  Mr.  Figgins  ? 

Our  friends  looked  up  the  street  and  down  the  street 

There  may  have  been  orphans  in  view,  but  if  so,  they 
were  of  Spanish  descent ;  Mr.  Figgins  could  not  be  seen. 

Inquiry  was  made  at  the  door  of  the  hotel,  but  he  had 
not  been  seen  there  since  the  morning. 

"Come  along;  let  us  look  for  him,"  said  Harry.  "If 
he  is  in  trouble,  we  must  help  him  out  of  it." 

' '  Begorra  !  "  exclaimed  the  Irishman,  ' '  it's  me  opinion 
that  the  gentleman  can  not  take  care  of  himself  at  all,  at 
all." 

"  He  has  never  been  brought  up  to  help  himself  much  in 
the  fighting  line,"  said  Jack,  "and  you  know  it  can't  be 
learnt  all  at  once." 

"Thrue  for  ye.  Howly  saints  !  miny's  the  time  I  had 
me  head  broke  before  I  knew  how  to  prevent  it." 

"  Hark  !  "  said  Harry.  "Unless  I  am  very  much  mis- 
taken, that's  his  voice." 

"Voice,  d'ye  call  it  ?  Shure,  an  Oirish  pig  under  a  gate 
has  a  more  illigant  voice." 

Paying  no  heed  to  the  Irishman's  disparaging  remarks, 
Jack  and  Harry  rushed  off  in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 

Turning  an  abrupt  angle,  they  beheld  the  object  of 
their  search. 

Mr.  Figgins  was  standing  in  a  doorway. 

In  front  of  him  was  an  old  Spanish  woman,  armed  with 
a  dagger,  with  which  she  made  furious  thrusts  at  the 
orphan,  all  the  while  cursing  him  in  the  choicest  Spanish. 

The  orphan  parried  her  blows  as  well  as  he  could,  all 
the  while  bellowing  for  help  at  the  top  of  his  voice. 

By  a  lucky  stroke  of  his  stick,  he  managed  to  knock 
the  dagger  out  of  her  grasp. 

But  it  was  a  case  of  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire 
with  him,  for  the  old  woman,  rushing  in,  seized  him  by 
the  head,  tore  his  hair,  and  buffeted  his  face  at  a  furious 
rate. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  195 

The  waiter,  however,  coming  up  behind,  seized  her  by  the 
wrists  and  dragged  her  away  to  the  other  side  of  the  road, 
when,  seeing  that  the  odds  were  very  much  against  her, 
she  departed,  not  without  bestowing  a  back-handed  bless- 
ing, in  the  choicest  of  Spanish  Billingsgate  slang,  upon 
the  English  nation  generally. 

"Where  is  he?  Where  is  the  monstrous  brigand  with 
whom  I  have  been  fighting  for  an  hour  or  more  ? "  said 
Figgins,  catching  up  his  stick  and  brandishing  it  very 
near  the  Irishman's  head. 

"Bad  cess  to  yez  !  Put  down  that  twig,  or  I'll  be 
afther  killin'  ye.  Put  it  down,  ye  spalpeen." 

Mr.  Figgins  dropped  his  stick  as  if  it  was  red  hot. 

"Brigand!"  exclaimed  Jack,  shaking  with  laughter. 
"Why,  it  was  an  old  woman,  and  I  am  surprised  you 
should  be  so  ungallant  as  to  strike  one  of  the  fair  sex." 

"Not  a  brigand?" 

"No." 

"  Then  my  eyes  have  deceived  me — but  that  is  not  to 
be  wondered  at,  as  my  eyeglass  is  smashed.  Oh,  Master 
Jack,  I  must  once  more  thank  you.  But  are  you  certain 
the  bull  is  dead  ? " 

"Dead  as  a  doornail,"  answered  Jack  ;  "and  you  have 
to  thank  Harry  as  well  as  me  for  your  safety." 

"Gentlemen,"  said  the  orphan,  "I  thank  you  very 
much.  I  had  the  misfortune  to  be  left  without  a  parent's 
guidance  many  years  ago,  but  I  have  been  taught  to  be 
grateful,  and  to  prove  my  gratitude  by  something  more 
than  words,  allow  me  to  invite  you  all  to  supper  with  me 
at — let  me  see,  it's  five  o'clock  now — how  will  nine  o'clock 
suit  ? " 

"Admirably,"  said  Harry  and  Jack. 

"These  two  gentlemen  will  join  us,  of  course,"  con- 
tinued the  orphan,  pointing  to  the  waiter  and  the 
diver. 

"Will  a  duck  shwim  ! "  exclaimed  the  driver.  "An' 
d'ye  think  an  Oirishman  will  iver  turn  his  back  on  good 
'ating,  dhrinkin',  foightin',  or  iny  other  koind  of  fun  ?  It's 
there  I'll  be,  shure  enough,  yer  honour." 

But  the  waiter  said,  when  appealed  to — 

"Much  obliged,  I'm  sure,  sir,  but  I'm  honly  one  of  the 
servants,  and  should  be  out  of  place  a  setting  down  with 
you  gemmen." 


1 96  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  AND 

"Nonsense!"  exclaimed  Jack.  "For  once  we'll  dis- 
pense with  all  notions  of  etiquette.  As  we  have  fought 
together,  so  we'll  sup  together." 

' '  Very  good,  sir — honly  I  thought  as  how,  perhaps, 
some  might  object." 

"Not  at  all,"  responded  the  orphan  and  Harry. 

"Then,  that  bein'  the  case,  I  had  better  get  in  and 
order  the  feed." 

"Certainly,"  replied  Figgins,  "and  mind  that  every- 
thing is  of  the  very  best.  Get  as  many  English  dishes  as 
you  can." 

"  Trust  me,  sir.     I  and  the  cook  is  great  pals. " 

"Mr.  Figgins,"  said  Jack,  as  the  waiter  moved  off, 
"  will  you  permit  me  to  bring  a  friend  with  me  ?  " 

"Certainly.  A  gentleman,  I  presume,  for  I  am  very 
nervous  in  ladies'  company." 

"Oh,  yes,"  responded  Jack,  "a  Polish  nobleman  on 
his  travels — Count  Nerowski  by  name." 

"I  shall  be  delighted  to  see  him.  He,  he,  he  !  I  am 
getting  to  be  quite  at  home  among  the  aristocracy.  Well, 
good-evening,  gentlemen,  for  the  present ;  don't  forget 
nine  o'clock,  for  my  terrific  combat  has  made  me  very 
hungry. " 

The  orphan  walked  away. 

"Sorr,"  said  the  diver,  "I'll  wish  yez  good-evening 
for  the  presint. " 

"You'll  come  to  supper  ?  " 

' '  Be  aisy  about  that  same,  sorr.  I  only  want  to  put  on 
me  most  illigant  clothes,  so  as  not  to  disgrace  the  gintle- 
man." 

"  Very  well ;  but  we  shall  expect  you." 

"Jack,"  said  Harry,  as  they  stood  together  in  front  of 
the  hotel,  "  who  is  this  Polish  nobleman  ? " 

"  One  who  can  climb  a  pole  better  than  either  of  us, 
and  we  are  not  altogether  lubbers." 

"What  do  you  mean ?  " 

"Count  Nerowski  is  our  old  friend  Nero,  with  a  tail  to 
his  name  as  well  as  to  his  body.  By-the-bye,  how  did  he 
get  ashore  ? " 

"Jumped  into  one  of  the  boats  along  with  the  men." 

' '  By-the-bye,  Harry,  did  you  see  that  beast  Chivey  in 
the  mob  ? " 

"Yes,  Jack,  I  caught  sight  of  the  young  villain  for  a 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  197 

moment.  We  must  be  on  the  lookout  for  him  and  his 
master.  But  what  is  your  little  game,  Jack  ?  " 

"Only  a  lark." 

"  No  harm,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  Not  a  bit ;  old  Nero  will  get  a  good  supper,  and  we 
shall  have  some  harmless  fun." 

They  strolled  up  and  down  the  verandah  for  some 
time,  and  at  length  resolved  to  go  and  dress  for  supper. 

Their  own  costume  required  little  alteration,  as  they  said 
that  if  the  dress  of  a  British  sailor  was  not  good  enough, 
they  would  not  alter  it  to  suit  anyone's  taste,  but  to  equip 
Count  Nerowski  in  a  costume  suited  to  his  high  rank  was 
no  such  easy  work. 

After  some  trouble,  however,  they  managed  to  get  him 
rigged  out  in  a  pair  of  black  trousers,  white  vest,  across 
which  a  blue  and  red  ribbon  was  tied  sashwise,  and  a 
black  dress  coat. 

But  as  for  getting  the  count's  feet  into  boots,  or  his 
hands  into  gloves,  that  was  a  matter  none  of  them  could 
accomplish,  so  they  allowed  his  hands  and  feet  to  remain 
uncovered. 

"Mr.  Figgins,  allow  me  to  introduce  you  to  his  excel- 
lency Count  Nerowski,"  said  Jack,  leading  that  distin- 
guished foreigner  into  the  supper  room. 

Nero  bowed  in  imitation  of  his  master,  and  chattered  at 
the  orphan,  who  of  course  did  not  understand. 

"I  am  very  delighted  to  make  the  acquaintance  of 
your  noble  friend,  but  he  is  a  strange-looking  person,"  he 
said  to  Jack,  on  the  quiet. 

The  company  being  assembled,  supper  was  served, 
the  orphan  taking  the  head  of  the  table,  and  Count  Ne- 
rowski facing  him,  that  being  the  dark  end  of  the  room. 

For  a  time  all  went  well,  and  the  company  enjoyed 
themselves. 

When  the  cloth  was  removed,  a  few  toasts  were  pro- 
posed, and  Harry  Girdwood  gave  "The  health  of  our  es- 
teemed friend,  Mr.  Figgins." 

They  all  stood  up  to  drink  the  toast. 

"Good  Heaven!  what  is  the  count  doing?"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Figgins. 

"Bravo,  Nerowski,"  shouted  Jack. 

The  count,  wishing  to  pay  all  honour  to  his  host,  had 
mounted  on  the  back  of  his  chair,  where  he  held  on  by 


198  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

one  foot,  while  with  the  other  he  lifted  a  glass  of  wine  to 
his  lips. 

In  his  right  hand  he  held  a  cigarette,  in  his  left  he 
waved  a  cambric  handkerchief. 

The  diver,  the  waiter,  young  Jack,  and  Harry  Gird- 
wood  screamed  with  laughter  at  this  performance,  but  the 
orphan,  being  nearsighted,  and  Nero  in  the  dark  part  of 
the  room,  was  really  frightened. 

"  Help  your  friend  down,  I  pray,  Mr.  Harkaway.  If 
he  should  fall  and  get  hurt,  I  should  never  forgive  my- 
self." 

' '  Don't  be  alarmed,  sir ;  he  very  often  goes  on  in  this 
style." 

' '  But  what's  he  doing  ?  " 

"  He's  now  imitating  the  celebrated  marble  group  en- 
titled 'Ajax  defying  the  Vaccination  Act,'"  said  Jack 
gravely. 

"  It  is  most  extraordinary.  I  wish  I  had  my  eyeglass, 
or  the  room  was  lighter,  for  I  can  hardly  see  him  so  far 
away." 

Nero  sat  down,  and  having,  by  accident,  wetted  his 
pocket-handkerchief  with,  champagne,  gravely  squeezed 
out  the  superfluous  moisture  as  he  had  seen  sailors  and 
washerwomen  do  after  rinsing  their  clothes. 

"That's  another  of  his  illustrations,"  observed  Jack, 
"  copied  from  a  bronze  group  he  purchased  at  St.  Peters- 
burg." 

"  Indeed.     May  I  ask  the  name  of  it?  " 

"  It  represents  Neptune  washing  a  paper  collar  at  the 
public  fountain  of  Cecropia. " 

' '  You  surprise  me, "  exclaimed  Mr.  Figgins. 

"So  you  do  me,"  said  Harry,  trying  to  keep  from 
laughing. 

As  for  the  diver  and  the  waiter,  they  roared  again. 

How  long  the  fun  would  have  lasted,  is  uncertain  ;  but 
a  Spanish  waiter  entering,  called  out  the  English  one, 
and  that  for  a  time  interrupted  the  conversation. 

"I  shall  not  be  away  long,  gentlemen,"  said  the  Eng- 
lish waiter. 

He  had  not  left  the  company  but  a  few  moments,  before 
Jack  thought  he  heard  a  strange  sound. 

"  Hark  !  "  exclaimed  Jack,    "what  sound  is  that? " 

"What  is  the  matter,  old  man ? "  asked  Harry. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  199 

*  I  thought  I  heard  a  groan. " 

"  Nonsense." 

"Be  gorra  !  there  it  is  again,"  said  the  diver. 

They  all  listened  attentively,  and  in  a  few  seconds 
heard  a  faint  sob  like  the  gasp  of  a  dying  man. 

Jack  at  once  rushed  out,  followed  by  Harry  and  the 
Irishman. 

There,  in  the  corridor,  lay  their  humble  friend  the  Eng- 
lish waiter,  his  life  blood  streaming  from  three  stiletto 
wounds  in  the  body. 

"Alarm  the  house;  murder's  been  done!"  shouted 
Jack. 

The  landlord  and  servants  soon  came  flocking  to  the 
place,  and  the  unfortunate  man,  being  laid  on  a  bed, 
medical  aid  was  sought. 

At  the  British  consulate  was  an  English  medical  man, 
and  he  being  informed  of  what  had  happened,  quickly  ap- 
peared on  the  scene. 

"  Is  he  alive  ?  "   asked  Jack. 

It   was   some  minutes  before   the   doctor  answered — 

"  He  still  breathes,  but  his  life  hangs  by  a  thread,  and 
if  he  recovers,  it  will  be  more  through  the  aid  of  Provi- 
dence than  my  medicine.  But  who  did  this  ? " 

That  no  one  could  tell. 

The  Spaniard  who  called  the  wounded  man  out  had 
left  him  talking  with  two  men — those  men  had  disap- 
peared, and  no  one  knew  who  they  were  or  whither  they 
had  gone. 


CHAPTER  XL. 

MR.  MURRAY    HAS    A    SECOND  EDITION DICK'S  SUBSTITUTE  FOR  AN 

ACT  OF  PARLIAMENT MR.    MURRAY   STARTS    FOR   SPAIN. 

SOON  after  Mr.  Murray  read  his  hopeful  son's  telegram, 
of  which  we  have  already  spoken,  he  made  preparations 
hurriedly  to  start. 

He  dreaded  every  hour  of  his  life  to  come  across  the 
wooded-legged  warrior  Mole,  or  Jack  Harkaway,  or  Dick 
Harvey. 

"  I  must  be  careful,"  he  thought 


200  YO UNO  JA  CK  HA RKA  WA  Y  AND 

He  got  hold  of  a  shipping  advertisement  sheet,  and  se« 
lected  a  vessel  which  was  to  start  at  an  early  date. 

At  length,  being  perfectly  satisfied  that  the  coast  was 
clear,  he  sallied  forth. 

He  was  so  disguised  that  very  little  of  his  countenance 
remained  visible. 

"I'm  in  luck,"  he  said  to  himself;  "the  Harkaway 
people  are  not  on  the  watch." 

He  was  mistaken.  Night  and  day  they  had  been,  one 
or  the  other  of  them,  on  watch  by  the  shipowner's  house, 
until  the  wretched  man  was  in  fear  of  his  life. 

"A  brutal,  murderous  lot,  these  people,"  he  said;  "a 
villanous  crew  those  Harkaways,  and  they  would  think 
110  more  of  taking  one's  life  than  of  cracking  a  nut." 

Barely  had  Mr.  Murray  made  this  very  singular  simile 
when  bang  came  a  thwack  upon  the  top  of  his  head. 

' '  Oh,  oh  !  "  he  cried. 

And  a  thousand  sparks  flashed  across  his  eyes. 

"You  old  beast  !  "  exclaimed  a  voice  in  his  ear,  which 
sounded  familiar. 

Mr.  Murray,  momentarily  dazed  by  the  blow,  looked 
round,  and  there  stood  Dick  Harvey. 

The  shipowner  was  aghast  at  the  sight. 

Dick  carried  a  stout  ash  stick. 

"  How  dare  you  stop  me  in  this  way,  ruffian?"  said 
Mr.  Murray,  looking  anxiously  about  him  as  he  spoke. 

"How  dare  I?"  exclaimed  Dick.  "Why,  for  decoy- 
ing young  Jack  Harkaway  and  his  comrade,  Harry  Gird- 
wood,  on  board  your  coffin-ship.  The  law  doesn't  call 
this  murder,  so  what  I  have  got  to  do  is  not  legal.  But 
punished  you  must  be  all  the  same,  and  shall  be,  without 
witnesses. " 

Mr.  Murray  suddenly  plucked  up  courage  for  a  very 
brief  moment,  and  made  a  desperate  rush. 

But  before  he  could  get  any  distance,  Dick  Harvey  was 
after  him. 

"Stop  that."  cried  Dick,  grabbing  at  his  shoulder. 
"You  can't  get  out  of  it  now.  You  brought  it  on  your- 
self, and  you  must  take  punishment  from  my  hand  and 
this  stick." 

Mr.  Murray  had  bought  himself  a  jack-knife,  a  big  one, 
for  the  voyage,  and  so,  as  the  handiest  weapon  of  defence, 
he  whipped  it  out  and  stood  at  bay. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  2OI 

For  a  minute  they  stood  facing  each  other,  Dick  poising 
his  stick  in  his  hand,  ready  to  run  in  and  make  play,  Mur- 
ray crouching  and  watching  the  faintest  movements  of 
the  enemy  with  great  eagerness. 

Dick  advanced. 

"Keep  off,"  cried  Murray;  "I  don't  want  your  blood 
upon  my  head." 

"I'll  take  my  chance,"  said  Dick,  still  advancing. 

Now  he  shot  in  closer,  and  when  old  Murray  brandished 
his  weapon  rather  wildly,  Dick  dropped  him  a  stinger  on 
the  hand,  and  down  went  the  knife. 

"Murder  !  "  yelled  Murray.     "  Oh,  oh  !  " 

"Cry  away,"  said  Dick,  cheerfully,  as  he  laid  on  his 
blows  with  a  lavish  hand. 

"  Help,  help,  murder !  " 

Bang  !  thwack  !  came  down  Dick's  stick. 

"  Ruffian  !  "  gasped  the  shipowner. 

"There,"  cried  Dick,    "one  more." 

Mr.  Murray  felt  the  crack,  and  sank  upon  the  ground 
with  a  groan. 

"Now,"  said  Harvey,  "now,  Mr.  Murray,  you  may 
pause  before  you  venture  upon  any  more  of  your  in- 
famous exploits ;  when  you  want  to  speculate  again  in 
sailors'  lives,  and  play  at  legalised  murder,  just  you 
reflect  on  this." 

Dick  shook  the  stick  before  old  Murray's  eyes. 

"Think,"  said  Dick,  sternly,  "of  the  wretchedness 
you  have  made  in  many  a  home — as  you  are  a  father, 
think  of  the  desolation  wrought  upon  the  Harkaways  by 
your  villanous  conduct." 

"  My  own  boy,  my  darling  Herbert  was  on  board  the 
'Albatross,'"  said  Murray,  looking  up. 

"  Then  the  greater  old  villain  you  !  "  ejaculated  Harvey, 
with  indignation. 

"You  have  used  me  cruelly,"  said  old  Murray,  rubbing 
his  bruised  parts. 

' '  Not  half  so  badly  as  I  ought  to  have  done. " 

"  But  I  will  try  and  forgive  ;  I  will  try  and  repay  you 
with  comfort ;  yes,  news  to  make  you  happy." 

"How?" 

"Listen.  Will  you  tell  Mr.  Harkaway  that  his  boy  is 
safe — safe  and  sound  on  the  Spanish  coast  ?  " 

"Never." 


2  02  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  IV A  Y  AND 

'  He  is,  I  swear.     I  have  a  telegram  from  my  son." 
'  Where  ? " 
'Here." 
'  Give  it  me." 

'No,  no,"  returned  old  Murray,  clapping  his  hand  over 
his  breast  pocket.  "I  am  hastening  now  to  take  ship  to 
fly  over  to  my  boy — my  dear,  rebellious,  disobedient 
darling. " 

"  Let  me  look." 

Like  a  man  in  a  dream,  Dick  Harvey  read  the  telegram 
which  old  Murray  handed  to  him. 

"Safe  ashore.  'Albatross'  condemned  in  port  to  be 
sold." 

"  Good  Heaven  !  "  thought  Dick,  "if  this  is  true,  what 
joyful  news  for  Jack  and  Emily." 

"  It  is  true,"  said  Murray.  "I  have  a  heart,  much  as 
you  may  doubt  it,  and  I  would  not  now  trifle  with  a 
father's  feelings — no,  not  for  all  the  mines  of  gold,  I 
swear. " 

There  was  no  mistaking  this  miserable  man's  earnest- 
ness now. 

"  He  is  sincere,  if  ever  a  man  was,"  said  Harvey. 

He  was  right. 

A  change  had  come  over  Mr.  Murray's  feelings. 

"Why  on  earth  did  you  not  tell  me  before?"  said 
Harvey;  "all  might  have  been  spared — all — all." 

"  I  tried  to  speak;  you  would  not  listen,"  replied  Mr. 
Murray,  groaning  over  his  bruises. 

"Where  are  you  going  to  now?"  demanded  Dick. 
"Speak  without  fear;  I  shall  put  your  answer  to  no  evil 
use. " 

"I  am  going  on  board  to-night,"  returned  Mr.  Murray. 

"  Go  at  once,  then.  I  will  hasten  to  inform  Harkaway 
of  young  Jack's  safety." 

That  night  Mr.  Murray  slept  on  board. 

The  next  morning,  at  an  hour  after  daylight,  the  ship 
"Harpy"  weighed  anchor  and  carried  the  shipowner 
towards  his  scapegrace  son. 

Let  the  most  favourable  winds  fill  the  sails  of  the  good 
ship  "Harpy,"  we  doubt  if  she  will  very  speedily  reach 
the  port  where  the  "  Albatross  "  lies  fathoms  low,  found- 
ered in  fair  weather. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  203 


CHAPTER  XLI. 

MR.      MURRAY— ON     BOARD    THE     SHIP      "  HARPY" THE      BITER 

BIT — MORAL    REFLECTIONS. 

THE  good  ship  "Harpy"  stood  out  at  sea  ready  for 
the  Spanish  coast. 

From  the  first,  however,  she  had  encountered  heavy 
weather,  and  she  strained  and  creaked  as  she  ploughed 
her  way  through  the  boiling  sea  in  a  way  that  would  have 
made  a  nervous  mariner  quake. 

But  Mr.  Murray  was  too  full  of  the  happy  anticipations 
of  once  again  pressing  his  wild  and  disobedient  son  to 
his  heart  to  think  of  the  perils  afloat. 

Let  the  wind  roar  and  the  ship  be  knocked  about  ever 
so  much,  not  a  bit  did  he  heed  it. 

When  they  had  been  a  few  days  afloat,  there  were 
signs  of  uneasiness  amongst  the  crew  that  should  have 
made  him  think  seriously. 

But  he  never  questioned  them,  nor  did  he  take  any 
notice  whatever,  until  the  steward  came  to  him  with  a 
long  face  and  broached  the  subject  of  the  extreme  stress 
of  weather. 

"  It'll  be  a  precious  narrow  squeak,  sir,  for  us  if  we  ever 
see  land  again." 

"  Do  you  think  that  the  ship  is  in  any  danger? "  asked 
Murray. 

"  Do  I  think  !  "  returned  the  steward.  "  Do  I  know  ! 
Why,  our  chance  of  seeing  land  again  in  this  ramshackle 
old  cockboat  is  about  as  small  as  it  well  could  be.  A 
good  ship  would  have  a  bad  chance  now,  but  a  patched- 
up  old  hull  like  the  '  Harpy's  hasn't  the  ghost  of  a  chance, 
and  that's  my  candid  opinion,  sir. " 

"Good  Heaven  ! "  cried  old  Murray,  in  fright. 

"Yes,  sir,"  continued  the  steward,  "I  fear  we  are 
doomed  for  a  watery  grave. " 

"I  was  given  to  understand  that  the  'Harpy'  was  a 
capital  little  ship.  Ah,  and  in  excellent  condition." 

The  steward  chuckled  grimly  at  this. 

"You  was,  was  you  ?  " 


204  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HA  RKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Yes,  by  the  people  at  the  brokers  who  chartered  her." 

"  I  thought  so,"  remarked  the  steward,  gravely. 

"  But  why,  my  good  man,  why  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Murray, 
anxiously,  and  beginning  to  feel  dreadfully  frightened. 

"  Why,  I  believe  the  owners  are  rascals,  and  ought  to 
be  trounced  for  trapping  poor  devils  on  their  coffin-ship. " 

Mr.  Murray  gave  a  start  of  utter  dismay. 

A  coffin-ship ! 

"  You,  you  don't  mean  to  say  you  think  this  ? " 

"Yes,  I  do,  though." 

"  Good  Heaven  !  "  cried  the  ship  broker,  falling  back 
with  horror. 

"  Hold  steady,  sir  ;  but  that's  just  about  the  size  of  it," 
pursued  the  steward. 

Mr.  Murray  gave  a  hollow  groan  and  staggered  back, 
half  fainting. 

He  had  been  already  punished  by  the  flight  of  his 
boy,  and  now  he  was  crowning  the  fulfilment  of  his  des- 
tiny by  sinking  in  a  coffin-ship  in  mid-ocean. 


It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  adequately  the 
thousand  and  one  conflicting  thoughts  which  fled  through 
his  mind. 

Was  this  indeed  to  be  the  end  of  everything? 

His  very  soul  quaked. 

His  punishment  had  come. 

He  walked  up  and  down  in  the  greatest  restlessness 
and  anxiety,  vainly  endeavouring  to  calm  himself. 

The  hand  of  fate  was  upon  him. 

He  jumped  up  and  made  for  the  deck 

He  found  out  the  first  mate  and  questioned  him  about 
the  vessel. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  mate,  "all  I  can  say  is  we  ain't 
gone  down  yet,  that's  all,  though  how  long  I  may  be 
able  to  sing  the  same  tune  is  quite  another  matter. " 

"  Do  you  look  upon  the  '  Harpy '  as  doomed  then  ?  " 
he  asked. 

The  mate  nodded. 

"  That's  about  it,  sir." 

"Then  what  preparations  are  you  making  to  meet  the 
calamity  ? " 

"None." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  205 

"What?" 

"  We  ain't  got  preparations  to  make.  When  the  time 
comes,  we  shall  take  to  the  boats.  As  many  as  can  get 
in,  will  get  in,  and  the  rest " 

"Yes,  the  rest?  "  demanded  the  shipowner,  eagerly. 

' '  They'll  have  to  shift  for  themselves. " 

"  Good  Heaven  !  "  ejaculated  Mr.  Murray.  "  Is  it  pos- 
sible that  proper  precautions  aren't  taken  by  the  owners  ?  " 

"  The  owners?  There  are  plenty  of  owners  like  them; 
they  send  out  rotten  ships  that  they  know  must  go  to 
the  bottom  of  the  sea.  What  are  the  lives  of  sailors 
and  passengers  to  them,  sir?  They  are  simply  mur- 
derers, and  when  their  time  comes  to  die,  they  will  be 
punished  here  and  hereafter  for  their  black  deeds." 

Mr.  Murray  staggered  back  a  sad  man. 

Oh,  how  he  feared  death,  and  above  all  death  in  a  cof- 
fin-ship at  sea. 

"Is  there  no  hope  for  the  '  Harpy  ? ' "  asked  the  ship- 
owner once  more. 

The  mate  shook  his  head. 

"  Is  the  danger  immediate,  do  you  think  ?" 

"There's  a  bare  chance,  if  we  come  across  assistance. 
But  you  can  turn  in  in  safety  to-night,  for  the  wind  has 
dropped,  and  there's  no  fear  of  an  accident  yet  awhile. 
But  it's  only  a  question  of  time." 

With  a  heavy  heart,  the  man  that  had  caused  so  many 
deaths  at  sea  went  below  to  his  berth. 

He  tried  to  sleep,  but  he  was  a  long  time  dropping  off, 
and  then  his  slumber  was  of  a  fitful,  unhealthy  kind. 


CHAPTER  XLII. 

ATONEMENT — ALONE       IN      THE       DARK — STRANGE      VISITORS — A 

NAMELESS  TERROR THE  "HARPY  "  STRIKES THE  SHIPOWNER'S 

DYING  STRUGGLES. 

THE  swinging  lamp  in  Mr.  Murray's  berth  grew  strange- 
ly dull,  and  in  the  dim,  uncertain  light,  the  shipowner  felt 
ill  at  ease. 

A  vague  uneasiness  fell  upon  him — a  dread  of  unknown 
danger. 


206  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

And  presently,   in  his  half-dreaming  state,  there  ap 
peared  in  the  corner  of  the  cabin  a  singular  figure. 

From  the  first  moment  that  his  glance  rested  upon  th> 
strange  visitor,  the  shipowner  felt  that  it  was  a  familial 
presence,  and  so  he  watched  with  singular  interest  the 
movements  of  this  figure. 

It  advanced  slowly,  and  without  appearing  to  walk. 

It  was  more  like  a  gliding  motion  with  which  it  pro- 
gressed. 

And,  in  this  way,  the  figure  advanced  to  the  side  oi 
Mr.  Murray's  berth. 

Never  a  word  did  he  speak. 

When  he  was  close  beside  him,  the  shipowner,  who 
was,  until  now,  apparently  tongue-tied,  found  his  voice. 

"What  do  you  want?  "  he  demanded,  in  a  constrained 
voice. 

The  figure  made  no  reply. 

A  grave  nod  of  the  head  was  his  sole  acknowledgment 
of  the  shipowner's  question. 

And  now,  Mr.  Murray  observed,  as  the  man  bowed 
his  head  in  solemn  recognition,  that  water  dripped  from 
his  hair  and  beard,  which  were  matted,  seemingly,  by 
long  immersion. 

"  What  do  you  want  here?  "  exclaimed  the  shipowner, 
suddenly.  "I  know  you.  You  are  Captain  Rocket." 

"I  was, "  returned  the  strange  visitor,  in  a  hollow  voice, 
"known  by  that  name." 

"  I  knew  it,"  gasped  the  shipowner;  "and  you  were 
once  the  captain  of  my  vessel,  the  '  Sea  Bird. ' " 

"  I  come  to  warn  you,"  said  the  spectral  figure. 

"  What  is  that  water  and  seaweed  that  drips  from  youi 
long  hair?" 

"It  is  part  of  my  shroud, "  returned  the  figure. 

The  shipowner  essayed  to  make  answer. 

But  his  tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth. 

' '  Your  what  ? "  he  managed  at  length  to  articulate. 

' '  My  shroud. " 

"  Then  you  are  not  a  living,  breathing  man  like  me  ? " 

The  figure  shook  its  head  mournfully. 

"lam  what  you  have  made  me,  Murray,"  it  answered, 
in  hollow,  sepulchral  tones,  "  through  sending  me  out  in 
your  coffin-ship,  I  have  risen  from  my  watery  grave,  to 
which  you  have  sent  me,  to  warn  you. " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER. 


207 


"Of  what?" 

"To-morrow." 

The  shipowner  gave  a  sudden  cry  of  alarm. 

"What  mean  you  ?  " 

"Beware  to-morrow,"  returned  the  strange  visitor. 
"  The  fate,  to  which  you  so  heartlessly  condemned  me  and 
many  others,  shall  be  yours.  An  eye  for  an  eye — a  tooth 
for  a  tooth." 

A  nameless  dread  filled  the  unhappy  shipowner  at  these 
awful  words, 

"Go,"  he  cried  piteously.  "  Go,  and  leave  me.  Why 
do  you  come  to  torment  me  now  ? " 

"Because  you  condemned  me  to  a  watery  grave — I  who 
never  wronged  you  or  yours.  Because,  for  vile  unhallowed 
gains,  you  waited  and  waited  hourly  for  the  news  that  I 
had  perished  with  the  '  Sea  Bird.'  It  is  one  year  ago  this 
very  night  that  I  and  a  poor  helpless  crew  went  to  our 
watery  grave  from  your  rotten  ship.  Yes,  I  and  everyone 
on  board." 

"Everyone  ?  " 

"Yes,  men  and  boys  all  lost  for  your  gain." 

"It  is  false,"  cried  Mr.  Murray,  starting  up  in  his  berth. 
"It  is  false,  I  say  ;  it  was  through  no  fault  of  mine,"  re- 
torted Mr.  Murray,  "that  you  and  the  crew  were  drowned." 

"Whose,  then?" 

"  The  owners  from  whom  I  bought  the  ship." 

The  figure  shook  his  head  gravely  as  before. 

"You  know  well  that  you,  and  you  alone,  are  respon- 
sible. For  you  it  was  who  trafficked  in  honest  men's  lives 
to  secure  your  own  vile  gains.  Many's  the  ship,  and 
many's  the  crew  that  now  lie  fathoms  deep  in  the  ocean, 
sent  to  their  early  graves  through  your  villany  ;  therefore, 
prepare  for  your  doom  to-morrow." 

"  It  is  all  false  you  tell  me.  I  shall  not  perish  to-morrow. 
Begone ! " 

The  strange  visitor  shook  his  head  in  the  same  solemn 
manner  as  before. 

"You  may  never  learn  the  truth  from  other  lips  than 
mine,"  said  the  shade  of  Captain  Rocket ;  "but  listen. 
Never  more  shall  you  look  upon  the  face  of  your  son 
again." 

' '  Begone.  Out  of  my  sight,  devil,"  yelled  the  shipowner, 
worked  up  into  a  regular  frenzy  by  now;  "  out  of  my  sight. " 


208  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

The  figure  stood  still. 

"Begone,  devil!"  exclaimed  the  wretched  man;  "I 
know  you  now.  You  are  an  evil  spirit  who  has  taken  the 
form  of  Rocket  to  torture  me,  but  I  defy  you." 

But  still  the  pale  figure  of  the  dead  captain  stood  there. 

And  now  his  rage  was  succeeded  by  a  deathly  fear. 

A  nameless  terror  crept  upon  him  once  again,  and  he 
cowered  in  his  bed. 

"Heaven  rid  me  of  this  horror,"  wailed  the  unhappy 
man. 

He  closed  his  eyes  to  shut  out  the  fearful  spectacle,  and 
on  opening  them,  a  minute  or  so  later,  it  was  gone. 

Yes,  vanished  ! 

But  only  to  be  replaced  by  many  figures  of  boys  and 
old  sailors. 

"What  do  you  want?  "  faltered  the  shipowner. 

"  Beware  to-morrow,"  replied  the  shadows,  in  a  hollow 
chorus. 

"  What  of  to-morrow  ?  "  demanded  Murray,  eagerly, 

"To-morrow  you  will  expiate  your  crimes,  for  the  many 
murders  you  are  guilty  of  in  sending  us  poor  souls  to  sea 
in  your  coffin-ships,"  was  their  reply. 

"But  how — how?  "  cried  the  shipowner;  "  tell  me 
how,  if  I  am  to  perish. " 

"You  will  be  punished  by  the  fate  to  which  you  re- 
morselessly condemned  our  wretched  selves.  Your  bones 
shall  rot  in  the  bed  of  the  ocean." 

"It's  false,"  faltered  the  shipowner,  trying  in  vain  to 
put  on  a  bold  front. 

"It  is  true,"  returned  the  shade  of  one  poor  boy, 
solemnly. 

"If  it  is  not  true, "  said  the  other  figures,  in  the  same 
measured  and  hollow  tones,  "why  are  we  here?" 

"As  surely  as  we  speak,  Michael  Murray,  you  shall 
never  see  another  sunset.  You  are  on  a  rotten  ship,  and 
you  are  doomed  for  a  watery  grave." 

The  frightened  shipowner  essayed  in  vain  to  speak. 

He  could  not  articulate,  try  as  he  would. 

He  cowered  again  in  his  berth  to  shut  out  the  sight  of 
the  spectres,  and  muttered  a  prayer,  and  when  he  had 
done  this,  he  found  voice  to  articulate — 

' '  Heaven  rid  me  of  the  presence  of  these  dreadful 
spirits. " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  209 

"We  must  be  gone,"  said  the  spectres.  "We  have 
warned  you  ;  now  prepare  for  your  death." 

Their  shadowy  forms  melted  rapidly. 

They  were  gone. 

Mr.  Murray  struggled  to  rise  from  his  berth  ;  but  some- 
thing appeared  to  hold  him  back,  powerless  to  move  hand 
or  foot. 

So  desperate  became  his  efforts  that  he  lost  himself  com- 
pletely in  them,  and  lapsed  into  insensibility. 


Tossing  about  on  his  pillow. 

Moaning,  groaning  and  sighing  alternately,  keeping 
time,  as  it  were,  to  the  warning  creaking  of  the  vessel, 
and  the  ominous  roar  of  the  elements  without. 

Presently  he  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  about. 

There  he  was  in  his  cabin.     The  oil  lamp  had  gone  out 

"Where  are  they?"  he  murmured,  rubbing  his  eyes, 
and  glancing  about  him  in  fear.  ' '  Captain  Rocket  and 
the  drowned  sailors.  I  say,  where  are  they  ?  " 

All  gone ! 

A  sudden  light  dawned  upon  him. 

"  I  was  dreaming,"  he  cried,  "  dreaming — only  a  dream, 
after  all.  But,  oh,  how  horrible !  I  fell  asleep  brooding 
over  the  steward's  croakings  of  evil,  and  so  have  conjured 
up  that  horrible  vision.  But  what  a  relief  to  find  that  it 
all  means  nothing  !  It  can  mean  nothing." 

The  ship  received  a  sudden  shock,  which  threw  Mr. 
Murray  from  his  berth. 

"What  was  that?" 

It  felt  as  if  she  had  struck. 

As  Murray  regained  his  feet,  the  vessel  quivered  from 
stem  to  stern,  as  if  from  the  shock  she  had  encountered. 

Filled  with  dire  forebodings,  he  made  for  the  deck  with 
all  despatch,  and  as  he  reached  it,  he  was  dazed  with  a 
sudden  and  vivid  flash  of  lightning. 

Recoiling  for  a  moment,  he  walked  on,  after  holding  by 
the  ropes  and  bulwarks  to  steady  himself,  and — 

Where  was  the  crew  ? 

Where  was  the  captain  ? 

Not  a  soul  in  sight  ? 

He  passed  his  hand  across  bis  eyes  and  stared  about 
him. 
14 


2 1 C  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  AND 

"I  am  still  labouring  under  the  effects  of  this  dreadful 
nightmare,  I  suppose.  How  strangely  real  !  " 

"Hark!" 

A  distant  growl  of  thunder  rolled  on  after  the  tempest- 
tossed  ship,  gathering  force  as  it  came,  and  bursting  with 
a  deafening  crash  close  overhead. 

Then  followed  a  second  flash  of  lightning,  and  in  that 
lurid  glare  which  momentarily  illumined  the  boiling  sea 
for  miles  around,  the  shipowner  saw  something  that 
chilled  the  very  marrow  in  his  bones. 

Two  heavily-laden  boats  tearing  through  the  waves, 
now  perched  mountains  high,  now  diving  down  into  the 
deep  trough  of  the  sea. 

He  guessed  the  whole  truth  now  at  a  single  glance. 

The  crew  of  the  "  Harpy  "  had  deserted  her  and  taken 
to  the  boats. 

Aye,  to  a  man. 

He  was  left  alone. 

Alone  ! 

Oh,  fearful  word. 

Alone  to  encounter  the  fearsome  perils  of  that  awful 
night. 

"  Help,  help  !  "  he  shouted,  with  sudden  energy.  "  Do 
not  desert  me.  Cowards — miscreants — murderers  !  Do 
not  leave  me  alone  to  perish  like  a  rat  in  a  trap  ?  " 

In  vain  did  he  cry. 

In  vain  did  he  shout. 

The  roar  of  the  wind  and  the  waves  drowned  his  voice. 

"Hark  again  to  the  thunder  ! "  he  shouted  again. 

His  own  voice  echoed  back  to  him,  borne  on  the  wind, 
seemingly  in  a  mournful  cadence,  as  though  he  were 
singing  his  own  funeral  dirge. 

He  looked  about  him  frantically. 

Not  a  hope  ! 

He  kicked  against  some  loose  spars  as  he  ran  forward, 
and  then  with  wild  energy  he  set  to  work  to  lash  himself 
to  one  with  a  rope. 

But  before  he  could  accomplish  this — a  last  faint  hope 
• — the  "  Harpy"  gave  signs  of  settling  down  to  her  fate. 

He  felt  the  ship  sinking  beneath  him,  and  then  he  sent 
up  a  piercing  shriek. 

Ha  !  what  are  they  rising  from  the  waves  ?  Sailor 
boys  and  men,  with  pale,  ghastly  faces  pointing  at  him. 


HIS  BO  Y  TINKER.  2 1 1 

Look !  they  are  dead  men  and  boys — his  victims — 
drowned  at  sea. 

A  piteous  cry  for  mercy  comes  from  the  shipowner. 

A  wail  of  despair. 

And  in  his  frenzy  he  seemed  to  hear  the  voices  of  his 
vision  reminding  him  of  their  warnings. 

"What  mercy  did  you  have  upon  others?  The  mercy 
you  showed  them  shall  be  meted  out  to  you  !  " 

He  groaned  in  despair. 

Oh,  for  a  hope  ! 

Oh,  for  the  faintest  glimmer  of  a  hope ! 

None — none  ! 

The  ship  was  settling  rapidly. 

He  knew  it.     He  struggled  to  his  feet 

But,  weighted  as  he  was  with  the  spar  to  which  he  had 
been  fastening  himself,  he  could  do  nothing. 

"It  will  never  float.  I  shall  be  drawn  down  in  the 
vortex." 

He  now  fought  frantically  to  cast  himself  loose. 

He  looked  about  him  for  a  knife — for  any  thing  to  cut 
the  rope. 

He  remembered  then  that  he  had  provided  himself  with 
a  large  jack-knife,  and  that  he  had  lost  it  in  his  encounter 
with  Harvey. 

He  fought  and  struggled  as  the  vessel  went  lower  and 
lower. 

Then  the  "Harpy"  gave  a  fearful  lurch;  then  heeled 
up  ;  then  plunged  down  head  foremost. 

A  dreadful  despairing  shriek  came  from  the  unhappy 
man,  and  he  was  silenced  for  ever. 

But  the  thunder  continued  to  growl,  the  wind  kept  up 
its  piteous  moan. 


CHAPTER  XLIII. 

MR.  CHIVEY  GROWS  ANECDOTAL  AND  UNPLEASANT  TO  THE  ORPHAN 
IN  PARTICULAR. 

THE  duel  between  young  Harkaway  and  the  Spanish 
officers  was  one  of  those  tales  which  are  called  in 
French — 


2 1 2  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

11  Un  secret  de  Polichinelle — Punch's  secret — otherwise 
a  secret  that  goes  from  mouth  to  mouth  like  wildfire." 

And  so  did  this  spread. 

The  successful  issue  of  it  was  talked  over  with  a  chuckle 
by  all  the  English,  as  you  may  imagine. 

Yet  stay. 

Not  all. 

There  were  two  persons  who  did  not  chuckle  at  all. 

These  were  Herbert  Murray,  who  was  waiting  to  hear 
from  his  father,  little  knowing  the  dreadful  fate  that  had 
overtaken  that  wretched  man,  and  Mr.  Chivey  the  tiger. 

"A  very  likely  tale,  Chivey,"  said  the  master. 

"Very,"  said  the  man. 

The  master  meant  it  ironically  ;  but  the  man,  who 
delighted  in  aggravating  the  master,  chose  to  pretend  to 
take  it  literally. 

"That  Harkaway  would  run  a  mile  if  he  saw  a  drawn 
sword  in  the  hand  of  a  Carlist  soldier,"  said  young 
Murray. 

"Not  he,"  returned  the  tiger,  "he's  a  regular  Tartar. 
But  I  never  thought  that  he  was  half  such  a  dab  with  the 
skewer  as  he  is  with  his  fives." 

"No  humbug,  Chivey." 

"Well,  sir,  we  know  he  is  a  dab  with  his  fives,  don't 
we?"  he  said,  stroking  his  chin  complacently.  "I've 
seen  a  bit  or  two  in  my  time.  I've  had  the  gloves  on 
with  some  pretty  warm  members,  but  bless  my  'art,  I 
never  see  a  cove  fib  away  half  so  pretty  as  he  did  at  you. 
You  looked  like  a  rainbow  when  he'd  done  with  you,  sir." 

"You're  a  beast,  Chivey." 

"But  he  was  wonderful  quick.  Ding,  dong,  all  over 
the  shop  at  once.  Tick,  tick,  where'll  you  have  it  next?" 

"Chivey,  I'll " 

"The  awful  way  he  must  ha*  made  you  see  fireworks, 
sir.  Beastly  hard  knuckles,  I  should  think,  sir." 

"If  you  don't  hold  your  tongue,  Chivey,  I'll  send  you 
packing  with  a  flea  in  your  ear." 

Mr.  Chivey  sulked. 

"S'pose  I  mustn't  speak  now — might  as  well  be  in  the 
Penitentiary — or  the  ha'penny  tentiary,  if  that's  a  wuss 
place. " 

' '  Hold  your  tongue ;  here  comes  that  old  fool  of  a 
Figgins." 


HIS  BOY  TINK&R.  213 

"The  orphan,  sir  ?  " 

"Yes." 

Mr.  Figgins  approached  with  a  nod  of  recognition,  and 
stopped  to  chat. 

The  gruel  and  tallow  candle  difficulty  had  been  got 
over.  Mr.  Figgins  was  materially  improved  in  health 
to-day,  having  got  over  the  fright  of  the  attack  of  the 
bull. 

"  Good-morning,  young  gentleman,"  he  said. 

"Good-morning,"  responded  Herbert  Murray. 

"It's  a  singular  thing,  sir,"  said  Chivey,  touching  his 
hat,  "  but  just  as  you  come  up,  we  were  talking  of  tigs." 

Mr.  Figgins  changed  colour  slightly  at  this  remark. 

"Why  singular?  "  demanded  the  orphan,  curtly. 

"Oh,  nothing,  sir,"  returned  Chivey,  with  another 
salute;  "only  you  used  to  deal  in  'em,  sir,  I  believe, 
didn't  you  ? " 

"Ahem  !  Yes,  I  certainly  did.  There  is  nothing  dis- 
honourable in  trade.  I  am  proud  of  my  commercial 
origin.  I " 

"  Hear,  hear  !  "  said  Chivey. 

"I  did  deal  in  figs  amongst  other  articles  of  colonial 
produce. " 

"I've  seen  that  line  up  somewheres,"  said  Chivey, 
placing  the  tip  of  his  forefinger  to  his  forehead.  "I'm 
quite  certain  we  are  old  pals  !  Now  where  is  it  I  have 
met  you  I  " 

After  a  pause,  the  orphan  said — 

"  I  am  not  ashamed  to  own  that  I  have  traded  in  figs." 

"And  uncommon  nice  trading,  too,"  said  Chivey; 
"  only  I  should  wolf  all  the  profit  up  if  I  was  a  grocer 
and  kept  a  shop." 

The  obnoxious  words  "grocer"  and  "shop"  made 
the  retired  tradesman  writhe. 

Why  should  his  humble  origin  he  cast  in  his  teeth  here, 
far  away  from  Cow  Cross,  and  the  scenes  of  his  early 
struggles  ? 

"I  never  see  you,  sir, "said  the  tiger,  with  the  same 
innocent  air,  "but  what  I  think  of  that  pious  grocer,  who 
used  to  call  to  his  'prentice — 'Sammy,  when  you've 
sanded  the  sugar,  and  birch-broomed  the  tea,  and  horse- 
beaned  the  coffee,  come  up  to  prayers.'" 

"That's  a  very  stale  anecdote,  Mr.  Murray,"  said  the 


2 1 4  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

orphan  ;  "is  your  servant  general  entertainer  as  well  as 
boot-polisher  ?  " 

"He  takes  liberties,  Mr.  Figgins,"  returned  Herbert 
Murray,  who  was  enjoying  the  orphan's  uneasy  looks. 
"Great  liberties.  You  must  learn  to  know  your  place, 
Chivey." 

The  tiger  touched  his  hat  in  all  humility,  but  with  a 
merry  devil  in  his  eye  all  the  while. 

"  Don't  be  cross  ;  no  bones  broke,"  said  the  tiger. 

"No." 

Chivey  was  in  high  spirits  and  a  mischievous  humour. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Figgins,  sir,"  said  Chivey,  with  something 
very  like  a  sigh,  "  I  remember  your  shop  in  Cow  Cross 
well." 

Mr.  Figgins  gave  a  start  and  a  look  of  dismay. 

The  shop  in  question — although  he  called  it  an  empo- 
rium— was  really  a  very  humble  establishment. 

"I  think  I  can  see  your  little  drum  now,  sir.  The 
smashed  dates  with  the  tupp'ny  ticket  on  'em,  and  the 
fly-blowed  sugar." 

"Ahem!  Fly-blown,  Chivey  !"  said  Murray  ;  "that's 
a  scandal." 

"Oh,  no,  sir.  Mr.  Figgins  will  bear  me  out,  won't 
you,  Mr.  Figgins  ?  I  used  to  know  all  your  stock,  sir, 
better  than  you  knew  it  yourself,  sir,  when  I  was  a  kid. 
I  used  to  go  and  flatten  my  blessed  nose,  sir,  against 
your  window,  and  get  right  down  ravenous  at  the 
sight  of  your  biscuits,  although  they  wasn't  too  fresh- 
looking." 

"Come,  come,"  said  Murray,  who  was  obliged  to 
speak  so  as  not  to  burst  out  laughing,  "  the  biscuits  weren't 
fly-blown  as  well." 

"  Wasn't  they,  though  ?  " 

"No,  no,"  said  Mr.  Figgins,  indignantly,  "certainly 
not.  Fly-blown,  indeed." 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  tiger,  "I  don't  like  to  contradick, 
but  all  I  knows  is  that  I  cert'n'y  thought  you'd  upset  the 
black  pepper  over  'em  myself." 

"Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  his  master,  at  this. 

Mr.  Figgins  looked  very  red  in  the  face. 

"And  then  the  cheese,  sir,"  said  Chivey,  seriously, 
"a  peculiar  sort  o'  mottled  soap  cheese  that  used  to  hang 
on  hand  a  long  while  as  a  rule " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  215 

"It  is  false,"  said  Mr.  Figgins.     "Really,  Mr.  Murray, 


"And  then,"  continued  Chivey,  heedless  of  the  orphan's 
indignation,  "it  used  to  be  jobbed  off  to  the  beershop 
next  door;  that  was  Shiny  William's  perks." 

' '  Shiny  William  ?  "  said  Murray.     Who's  that  ?  " 

"  Shiny  William  was  the  waiter  as  had  to  wait  on  the 
cabbies  and  other  gents  that  used  the  house." 

"But  why  Shiny  William  ?  " 

"I  think  it  was  because  of  his  shiny  coat,  sir,"  con- 
tinued the  tiger  ;  "  it  had  wore  that  smooth  with  age  and 
grease,  that  you'd  ha'  took  it  for  mackintosh." 

"  Ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  his  master  ;  "so  that  was  Shiny 
William,  Mr.  Figgins's  friend  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir.     Mr.  Figgins  remembers  him  well." 

"  Indeed,  I  don't,"  retorted  the  retired  grocer,  looking 
as  though  he  would  like  to  have  thrashed  the  tiger. 

"I  thought  you  would,  sir,  on  account  of  the  tale  of 
one  of  the  parties  as  used  the  house." 

"What  was  that? " 

"  He  went  in  one  day  for  some  bread  and  cheese,  and 
says  he — 'Here,  Shiny  William,  serve  us  up  a  slice  o' 
beeswax  and  a  buster.'  'Yes,  sir,'  says  Shiny  William  ; 
'  and,  mind,  none  of  old  Figgins's  mottle  mind.'" 

"What  did  your  elegant  friend  mean  by  beeswax?" 
Mr.  Figgins  demanded. 

"Why,  cheese,  sir,"  continued  Chivey.  "Well,  he 
cuts  open  the  loaf  and  out  pops  a  little  mouse.  Shiny 
William  looks  as  if  he'd  been  struck  by  lightning,  but  the 
other  party  took  it  quite  cool.  '  Here,  Shiny  William,' 
he  says,  'sarve  this  up  next  turn.  I  wants  bread  and 
cheese,  I  didn't  ask  you  for  a  sandwich.'" 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  "  laughed  his  master. 

But  Mr.  Figgins  never  moved  a  muscle. 

"lam  glad,  Mr.  Murray,"  he  said,  "that  you  enjoy 
your  servant's  anecdotes.  That  one  was  stale  when  I 
was  a  child." 

"I've  seen  staler  things  in  a  certing  little  shop  down 
Cow-Cross  way.  Eh,  Mr.  Figgins  ?  "  said  Chivey. 

"Sir,"  said  the  orphan  proudly  to  young  Murray,  "I 
called  on  you  not  to  be  insulted  by  your  servant,  but  to 
speak  to  you  of  the  great  bravery  of  young  Jack  Hark- 
away — how  he  fought  a  duel  and  beat  his  man,  and  after 


2 1 6  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

that  how  he  saved  my  life  from  a  mad  bull ;  but  I  see 
you  do  not  understand  noble  deeds,  and  I  wish  you  good- 
morning',  sir." 

With  that  the  orphan  placed  his  hat  on  head,  and  beat 
a  retreat. 


CHAPTER  XLIV. 

OFF  TO  THE  BULL-FIGHT — THE  ORPHAN   IN  TROUBLE   AGAIN 

CHIVEY'S  DISGRACE  AND  FIGGINS  TRIUMPHANT. 

THE  bull-fight  that  had  been  so  extensively  advertised 
and  eagerly  looked  forward  to  was  postponed. 

As  already  related,  young  Jack  and  Harry  had  slain  the 
best  bull. 

Therefore  another  bull,  young  and  fierce,  had  to  be 
procured  from  the  mountain  pastures,  and  it  was  some 
days  ere  that  could  be  done. 

During  that  time  our  hero  was  delighted  to  find  a  great 
change  in  the  condition  of  his  friend,  the  English  waiter 
at  the  hotel,  who  had  been  stabbed,  out  of  revenge,  by 
some  of  the  Spanish  people,  whom  he  had  struck  down 
when  protecting  young  Jack  from  the  mob. 

The  wounds  that  at  first  looked  so  deep  and  dangerous 
speedily  healed  ;  in  three  days  he  was  able  to  sit  up,  and 
by  the  time  the  new  bulls  were  brought  into  the  town,  he 
could  get  about. 

So  on  the  day  when  at  length  the  fight  was  to  take 
place,  he  went  out  with  young  Jack,  Harry  Girdwood, 
the  orphan,  and  the  Irish  diver. 

They  managed  to  get  very  good  seats  in  the  front  row, 
but  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  Figgins  was  considerably  marred 
when  he  found  he  had  for  a  neighbour  the  hateful  tiger 
Chivey. 

"Ugh  !  "  he  muttered,  "I  am  surprised  that  they  allow 
servants  to  sit  in  the  best  parts  of  the  house." 

Chivey  heard  the  remark. 

' '  They  don't  let  no  tradespeople  come  here  if  they  knows 
it,  Mr.  Figgins,  so  you  had  better  dry  up,  or  I'll  split  on 
you  ;  but  I  say,  old  boy,  what's  the  price  of  soap  ? " 

"Begorra,  young  man,"  said  the  diver,  turning:  fiercely 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  217 

toward  Chivey,  "you'd  better  be  keepin'  yer  own  com- 
pany." 

"  Oh,  and  it  is  all  the  way  from  ould  Ireland  you  have 
come  to  tell  me  that  same,  my  Lord  Pat?  Ah,  sure 
now  !  " 

And  Chivey  put  his  ringer  to  his  nose  and  winked  at 
the  Irishman. 

"  By  the  holy  poker,  I'll  sarve  you  as  your  mother  did 
when  you  was  an  ugly  baby,  if  you  say  another  word." 

Chivey  was  silent  for  a  time,  but  he  resolved  to  play  a 
trick  or  two  with  the  orphan  before  the  sport  was  over. 

By  this  time  the  whole  of  the  seats  were  occupied,  and 
the  people  began  to  signify  their  desire  that  the  fight 
should  at  once  commence. 

Several  of  the  people  in  the  cheaper  parts  of  the  house 
recognised  our  hero,  and  threats  were  freely  uttered,  but 
as  the  British  consul  was  present,  and  a  British  frigate 
was  expected  to  call  at  the  port  in  a  day  or  two,  they 
confined  themselves  to  threats,  and  did  not  venture  upon 
any  act  of  violence. 

Presently  there  was  a  great  shout  of  applause,  as  two 
officers  of  the  municipality  came  into  the  arena,  and, 
after  saluting  the  authorities,  proceeded  to  open  the  large 
gates  on  opposite  sides  of  the  arena. 

"Bravo!"  shouted  Jack;  "the  show  is  going  to 
begin  !  " 

"Ain't  they  fine  fellows?  "  said  Harry,  as  from  one  of 
the  gates  there  entered  a  band  of  mounted  men  (picadors), 
while  at  the  other  appeared  a  number  of  foot  men 
(matadors  and  chulos). 

"The  best  show  I've  seen  for  a  longtime,"  said  the 
waiter.  "There'll  be  some  good  sport." 

Suddenly  the  shouts  of  applause  were  turned  into  groans 
and  yells  of  disapprobation  as  a  very  seedy-looking 
individual  entered  the  arena. 

"Who  is  he?  "  demanded  Jack  and  Harry  in  a  breath. 

"The  verdugo,  the  common  hangman.  A  lot  o'  them 
vagabonds  shouting  knows  they'll  have  to  pass  through 
his  hands  some  time  or  other,  either  to  be  scragged,  or 
branded  as  galley  slaves,  so  they're  takin'  it  out  of  him 
aforehand." 

Quite  unmoved  by  the  execrations  so  lavishly  heaped 
on  his  head,  the  hangman  bowed  in  a  most  humble 


2 1 8  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

manner  before  the  state  box  of  the  authorities,  and  the 
key  of  the  torril,  or  bull  pen,  was  thrown  down  to  him. 

He  then  departed  to  give  admittance  to  the  first  bull. 

"That  is  Julian  Sanchez,  the  best  picador  in  the 
province,"  said  the  waiter,  pointing  to  one  who  urged  his 
horse  in  front ;  "  he  is  a  bold  man." 

At  that  moment  the  first  bull  rushed  into  the  arena. 

Dazzled  by  the  bright  sunlight  after  being  in  a  dark 
stable  so  long,  the  bull  stood  hesitating  for  a  minute,  but 
it  was  only  for  a  minute,  and  then  with  head  lowered,  it 
dashed  at  Sanchez. 

But  the  lance  of  the  picador  glanced  from  the  shoulder 
of  the  bull,  which  instantly  dashed  one  of  its  horns  into 
the  chest  of  the  horse. 

A  stream  of  blood  poured  from  the  wound,  and  the 
spectators  shouted — 

' '  Braoa  !  "     Well  done,  bull. " 

"  I  say,  Harry,"  said  young  Jack  Harkaway  ;  "I  don't 
think  this  cruel  sport  would  go  down  in  old  England." 

"No,  Jack,  I  think  not ;  but  look  at  that  noble  horse, 
how  he  trembles  with  fear." 

As  Sanchez  drove  his  spurs  into  the  flanks  of  the  poor 
wounded  animal,  it  tottered  and  fell,  while  the  bull  rushed 
across  the  arena  to  attack  another  picador  known  as  El 
Gato,  or  the  Cat. 

This  man  received  his  enemy  with  a  powerful  thrust  of 
the  lance,  but  so  vigorous  was  the  onset  of  the  bull  that 
El  Gato  was  thrown  from  his  horse,  the  wooden  shaft 
of  the  lance  bending  up  and  rebounding  like  a  steel 
spring. 

Again  there  were  loud  shouts  of  applause. 

"This  is  no  child's  play,"  said  Jack,  as  the  chulos 
bounded  forward,  waving  their  cloaks  to  divert  the  bull's 
attention  from  the  overthrown  picadors. 

El  Gato's  horse  was  fairly  tossed  in  the  air  and  came 
down  dead,  but  Sanchez  managed  to  stop  the  small 
wound  in  his  animal's  chest  with  some  tow,  and  having 
dragged  him  to  his  feet,  again  mounted,  and  watching 
his  opportunity,  made  a  deadly  thrust  with  his  lance. 

The  bull  sank  down,  made  a  feeble  attempt  to  rise 
again,  and  then  rolled  over  in  the  dust.  Loud  applause 
was  bestowed  upon  Sanchez,  who  hastily  acknowledging 
the  plaudits,  rode  out  of  the  arena. 


ff/S  BO  Y  TINKER.  2 1 9 

"He  seems  in  a  hurry  to  be  off,"  observed  Jack. 

"That's  to  keep  possession  of  the  horse,"  replied  the 
waiter.  "You  see  the  town  finds  the  steeds,  and  the 
picador,  if  he  kills  a  bull,  is  allowed  to  keep  the  horse — if 
it  has  been  wounded." 

' '  Well,  I  would  not  give  much  for  that  horse, "  observed 
Jack. 

"What  d'ye  think  o' this  here  fun,  governor?"  said 
Chivey,  to  the  orphan.  "Beats  cock-fighting,  don't  it?" 

And  Chivey,  passing  his  arm  round  the  orphan,  in- 
serted a  large  pin  in  his  side. 

The  orphan  jumped  up  with  pain,  and  looked  at  a 
lady  sitting  next  to  him,  being  in  doubt  where  the  pin 
came  from. 

"  Pray  address  your  conversation  to  your  equals  and 
friends,"  said  the  orphan,  haughtily,  turning  to  Chivey. 

"Blest  if  you  ain't  a  precious  sight  too  lofty,"  retorted 
Chivey.  "  I'll  bring  you  down  a  peg  or  two  afore  I've 
done  with  you." 

Figgins  was  just  about  to  retort  when  the  trumpets 
sounded,  and  another  bull  dashed  into  the  ring. 

Two  picadors  were  almost  instantly  overthrown,  and 
one  of  the  chulos  only  saved  his  life  by  vaulting  over 
the  barriers,  in  which  the  bull's  horns  made  two  nasty 
holes. 

"Bravo,  toro  !  "  shouted  the  people. 

"Bravo,  toro  !  "  shouted  the  orphan,  standing  up  and 
clapping  his  hands. 

Chivey  saw  Mr.  Figgins  thus  excited,  and  seeing,  as 
he  thought,  the  chance  of  a  good  lark,  bobbed  down 
under  the  outstretched  legs  of  the  hapless  orphan,  and 
endeavoured  to  pitch  him  over  the  ring,  but  Mr.  Figgins 
did  not  feel  disposed  to  go  over  among  the  raging  bulls, 
and  caught  hold  of  the  first  thing  he  could  to  save  him- 
self, and  that  happened  to  be  Mr.  Chivey's  collar. 

"Here,  I  say,  let  go,  you  old  ass,"  exclaimed  the 
tiger. 

" Drag  me  up,  you  bloodthirsty  murderer,"  shouted  the 
orphan. 

"Bravo,  Figgins  ;  stick  to  him,"  said  Jack. 

"  Like  grim  death  to  a  deceased  African,"  added  Harry. 

"  Here,  somebody  come  and  help  me  ;  the  old  orphan's 
pulling  me  over." 


220  YO UNG  JACK  HARKAWA Y 

Figgins  stuck  to  Chivey,  who,  being  unable  to  release 

himself,  was  dragged  over  into  the  arena. 

"Another  bull,  another  bull  1 "  shouted  the  people. 
"  Look  out  for  danger." 

The  attendant  hangman  in  the  pens  heard  the  shouts, 
and  thinking  the  beast  last  released  had  been  killed, 
released  another. 

"Look  out,  Figgins,"  shouted  Jack. 

The  orphan  had  only  just  time  to  scramble  to  his  feet 
when  he  found  one  of  the  fierce  beasts  close  upon  him. 

Figgins  dodged,  and  then  sped  round  the  arena  at  his 
best  pace,  Chivey  keeping  close  to  him,  his  hair  standing 
on  end  with  fright 

Both  bulls  were  now  in  pursuit  and  rapidly  gaining 
ground. 

In  a  few  minutes  more  they  must  be  trampled  down 
and  gored,  if  help  did  not  arrive. 

Suddenly  Mr.  Figgins  bethought  him  of  what  he  had 
seen  the  chulos  do,  and  drawing  out  a  red  silk  pocket- 
handkerchief  from  his  pocket,  he  dropped  it  over  the  bull's 
face,  and  then  dodged  aside. 

"Bravo,  Inglese,"  shouted  the  people,  as  the  bull  was 
diverted  from  his  course  by  the  fluttering  bit  of  silk. 

Mr.  Figgins  looked  round,  and  just  caught  sight  of 
Chivey  as  that  unfortunate  tiger  was  sent  flying  up  in  the 
air  by  one  of  the  bulls. 

"Good  Heaven  !  he'll  be  killed,"  remarked  Figgins. 

But  he  had  no  time  to  make  inquiries  on  the  subject, 
for  his  bull  having  got  rid  of  the  handkerchief,  returned 
once  more  to  the  charge. 

"Help  him,  some  of  you,"  shouted  Harry,  "or  he'll 
be  gored  to  death. " 

Jack  would — unarmed  as  he  was — have  jumped  down 
mto  the  arena,  had  not  his  powerful  Hibernian  friend  re- 
strained him. 

"Aisy,  sorr;  it's  no  use,  for  what  can  ye  do  at  all,  at 
all  ?  Shure  your  friend  the  orphan  must  be  afther  takin' 
care  of  his  own  bones.  Begorra,  an'  he's  got  some  of 
'em  broke  now." 

This  latter  exclamation  was  caused  by  the  orphan 
getting  a  sudden  and  violent  lift,  which  sent  him  flying 
in  the  air. 

"Cowards!"  shouted   Jack,    shaking   his  fist  at  the 


HIS  BO  Y  TINKER  221 

professional  bullfighters  who  had  crowded  together  in  the 
gateway. 

"  It's  the  devil's  own  luck  he  has,"  exclaimed  the  Irish- 
man. "Look  at  him  now." 

A«d  truly  it  seemed  so. 

For  the  orphan  had  fallen  with  his  legs  astride  the 
bull's  back,  and  seizing  the  animal  by  its  mane,  clung  on 
as  tight  as  could  be.  He  held  on  firmly. 

The  bull  had  never  been  treated  that  way  before,  and 
rushed  round  the  arena  like  mad,  the  Spanish  picadors 
and  chulos  applauding  what  they  considered  the  pluck 
and  skill  of  the  Englishman. 

"  Bravo !  bravo  !  "  shouted  the  people.  "  Look  at  the 
daring  rider. " 

The  second  bull  being  in  the  way,  was  overthrown  by 
the  infuriated  beast  ridden  by  the  orphan,  and  applause 
redoubled,  but  the  British  consul  at  length  managed  to 
make  the  professionals  aware  of  the  real  state  of  affairs, 
and  they  entered  the  arena  for  the  purpose  of  slaying  the 
bull. 

A  matador,  or  swordsman,  claimed  the  preference,  and 
armed  with  a  long  sword,  approached. 

The  man  was  either  very  nervous  or  he  did  not  know 
his  business,  for  instead  of  killing  the  bull  at  the  first 
thrust,  he  made  half-a-dozen  blows  without  inflicting  a 
mortal  wound,  though  he  managed  to  inflict  a  great  deal 
of  terror  on  the  orphan,  who  thought  that  each  stroke  was 
intended  for  his  own  heart. 

"Oh!  Help,  help!  Don't  let  the  murderer  slay  a 
poor  orphan,'*  cried  Figgins,  still  holding  on  to  the  mane 
of  the  bull  as  he  dashed  wildly  round  the  ring. 

"Get  down  and  pitch  into  the  man  with  your  fists," 
exclaimed  Jack. 

"  Take  the  sword  from  him  and  kill  the  bull  yourself," 
said  Harry. 

Meanwhile,  the  people  were  getting  very  impatient, 
calling  the  man  thief,  and  other  opprobrious  names,  but 
still  applauding  the  orphan. 

Presently,  however,  the  bull  fell,  and  the  orphan  rolled 
in  the  sand,  but  the  luckless  matador  was  ordered  off  to 
prison. 

' '  A  la  carcel  I "  they  shouted. 

And  he  was  dragged  away  to  gaol. 


222  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

The  orphan,  after  taking  one  last  look  of  dismay  at 
the  bull,  and  seeing  the  coast  clear,  clambered  over  the 
barricade  and  rejoined  his  friend,  who  by  this  time 
had  almost  had  enough  of  it,  and  were  preparing  to 
leave. 

' '  Oh,  yes,  let's  get  home. " 

The  orphan  willingly  acceded  to  their  proposition  to 
adjourn  to  the  hotel. 

He  had  to  endure  a  vast  quantity  of  applause  from  the 
people,  who  still  thought  he  had  entered  the  ring  on  his 
own  free  will  to  fight  the  bull. 

Jack,  although  he  disliked  Chivey,  could  not  refrain 
from  making  some  inquiries,  which  brought  the  intelli- 

fence  that  the  tiger,  though  much  bruised,  had  no  bones 
roken. 
And  so  ended  the  bull  fight 


CHAPTER  XLV. 

CHIVEY'S  PRACTICAL  JOKE — WHAT  CAME  OF  IT — HERBERT  MURRAY 
PAYS  HIM  OFF DIAMOND  CUT  DIAMOND — THE  ARREST. 

THE  day  after  the  bull  fight,  Chivey  and  his  master 
were  in  the  town,  the  tiger  feeling  very  stiff  and  sore. 

They  were  conversing  together  when  a  Spanish  officer 
approached  and  gave  Chivey  a  stiff  military  salute. 

The  tiger  returned  it  with  his  own  peculiar  jerky  greet- 
ing, the  forefinger  up  to  the  brim  of  the  hat. 

"Sefior  Harkaway,  I  believe  !  "  he  said  in  broken 
English. 

Chivey  tipped  his  master  the  wink. 

"D'ye  hear  that,  sir ?"  he  whispered.  "He  takes  me 
for  Harkaway.  Shall  I  have  a  lark  with  him  ?  " 

"What  for?" 

"Just  to  see  if  we  can't  pay  out  that  Harkaway 
fellow." 

The  officer  still  stared  and  awaited  their  reply. 

"I  asked  if  I  had  the  honour  of  addressing  Senor  Hark- 
away  ?  "  he  said,  looking  rather  serious. 

"  Yes — oh,  yes,"  returned  Chivey,  "I  am  Sefior  Hark- 
away.  What  is  your  pleasure,  young  man  ?  " 

The  Spanish  officer  bowed. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  223 

"I  did  not  mean  you,"  he  said,  "but  this  gentleman," 
pointing  to  young  Murray. 

"Oh,  no,"  said  Chivey ;  "I'm  the  fellow  they  call 
Harkaway,  and  that  young  man  is  my  servant — my 
tiger." 

The  Spanish  officer  opened  his  eyes  in  wonder. 

"Tiger?" 

"Yes." 

"That's  a  strange  name  for  a  servant,"  he  said. 

"We  swells  all  have  our  tigers,"  said  Chivey,  stroking 
his  chin,  and  looking  the  greatest  toff  imaginable. 

"You  insolent  vagabond  !  "  exclaimed  his  master. 

Chivey  winked. 

"  Keep  it  up,  sir,  keep  it  up.  We'll  have  no  end  of 
a  lark  with  this  Mossoo  Don  Tickletoby.  Perhaps  he's 
going  to  invite  us  to  dinner." 

The  Spaniard,  while  they  were  talking,  had  walked 
away  into  a  low  building  hard  by,  which  was  used  by 
the  Carlists  as  a  guard-room,  and  at  this  juncture  he 
emerged  from  the  doorway,  followed  by  a  file  of  soldiers. 

"  Hullo  !  "  exclaimed  Chivey,  "  what  the  doose " 

"Sefior  Harkaway,"  said  the  Spanish  officer,  drawing 
his  sword  with  a  flourish,  "  you  are  my  prisoner." 

Chivey  started  back. 

"Come,  I  say,  old  cove,  this " 

"You  are  my  prisoner,"  repeated  the  officer. 

"  Prisoner !  what  for  ? "  demanded  Chivey. 

"You  are  charged  with  being  a  spy  in  the  pay  of  the 
enemies  of  Spain,  of  his  majesty  the  king,  and  the 
enemies  of  the  cause  of  order  and  of  religion." 

"That's  quite  enough  for  your  money,"  said  the  tiger, 
with  a  doleful  look,  ' '  but  you've  altogether  mistook  your 
party,  for  I  ain't  an  enemy  to  nothing  or  nobody." 

"That  you'll  have  to  prove,"  said  the  officer. 

"But,  I  say,  governor,  don't  go  and " 

"Fall in."  said  the  officer,  peremptorily. 

He  waved  his  sword,  and  the  file  of  soldiers  advanced, 
closing  up  before  and  behind  the  miserable  joker,  Chivey. 

' '  Quick  march, "  said  the  officer. 

"It's  all  a  mistake,"  cried  Chivey,  in  desperation.  "I 
ain't  Harkaway  at  all,  I  tell  you.  Harkaway's  another 
party  altogether,  not  any  thing  like  so  good-looking  as 
me.  Oh,  captain,  do  listen  to  a  cove." 


224  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

The  officer  was  obdurate,  and  the  soldiers,  at  a  sign 
from  him,  began  to  hustle  the  tiger  off  towards  the  bar- 
racks. 

"Oh,  major!  "  implored  Chivey,  dolorously. 

"Away  with   him, "said  the  officer,   melodramatically. 

"Colonel  !  "  ejaculated  Chivey,  "do  listen." 

The  officer  relented  a  little  at  this. 

He  was  a  sub-lieutenant,  and  it  was  not  unpleasant  to 
be  addressed  as  colonel. 

"Well,  sir?" 

"I  tell  you,  colonel,  I  am  only  a  poor  cove.  I  ain't 
a  swell.  I  ain't  Harkaway  at  all,  sir.  Oh,  no ;  never, 
sir,  not  me.  I  only  said  it  for  a  lark.  Ask  my  governor 
there." 

The  officer  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in  doubt. 

"  How  can  I  believe  you,"  he  said. 

"Look  at  my  innocent  mug,"  said  Chivey,  dolefully; 
"ask  my  governor." 

"Governor?  " 

"My  master,"  explained  the  luckless  joker. 

"  Why,  you  said  he  was  your  servant,"  said  the  Carlist 

"No,  no  ;  you  ask  him." 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  officer,  who  was  getting  con- 
siderably puzzled  between  the  two  of  them,  "what  do 
you  say  ?  " 

Herbert  Murray  owed  his  impudent  tiger  a  rub  for  his 
insolence. 

Here  was  the  opportunity  for  paying  it  off. 

"  He  spoke  the  truth  at  first,"  said  he ;  "I  am  his  serv- 
ant." 

"I  thought  as  much,"  said  the  Carlist  officer;  "away 
with  him.  This  prevarication  will  do  you  no  good,  sir." 

They  marched  him  off  to  the  door  of  the  guard-room. 

Here  Chivey  grew  desperate. 

"  At  least,  general,"  he  cried,  in  despair,  "  allow  me  to 
have  my  servant  with  me. " 

"Insolent  scoundrel,"  exclaimed  his  master. 

He  would  have  fled,  but  the  officer  gave  the  word,  and 
two  of  the  soldiers  brought  him  back. 

"You  want  him  with  you?" 

"Yes." 

"  If  I  go  in  with  you,  Chivey,"  said  Herbert  Murray,  be- 
tween his  teeth,  "  I'll  discharge  you  from  this  minute." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  225 

Cmvey  was  not  to  be  influenced  by  threats. 

"Wants  to  lock  me  up,"  said  Chivey  to  himself. 
"Perhaps  he  thinks  I  know  too  much  for  him.  Well, 
well,  I'll  teach  him  to  try  his  larks  on  with  me." 


They  were  taken  into  the  guard-room,  and  formally 
handed  over  to  the  Carlist  military  authorities. 

They  were  driven  rudely  into  a  cell,  and  there  left  to 
reflect  upon  the  unpleasant  habit  of  practical  joking. 

14  Chivey." 

"Yes,  sir." 

"This  is  a  nice  thing  you  have  done  for  us." 

"Twasn't  my  fault,"  groaned  the  groom.  "You  had 
only  to  back  me  up  when  I  told  him  who  we  really  was." 

"You're  taken  up  as  a  spy,  and  I  suppose  that  you 
know  what  the  punishment  for  that  is  in  war  time  !  " 

"Not  I." 

"They'll  put  your  back  against  a  wall,  and  six  or  eight 
men  will  fire  into  you." 

Chivey  gave  a  very  hollow  groan  on  hearing  this. 

"Oh,  Lord — oh,  Lord,"  he  cried,  "I  wish  I  was  back 
in  Whitechapel." 


CHAPTER  XLVI. 

THE     NEW    DIVER     AT    THE      WRECK—- COME    AT     LAST — BETTER 
LATE  THAN    NEVER — DOWN   YOU    GO. 

MEANWHILE  Jack  Harkaway  junior,  all  unconscious  of 
the  danger  which  he  ran  of  being  imprisoned,  was  gone 
with  Harry  Girdwood  to  witness  the  operations  of  the 
divers  at  the  spot  where  the  ill-fated  ' '  Albatross  "  had  gone 
down. 

They  pulled  out  in  a  small  boat  towards  the  sloop, 
which  was  riding  at  anchor  close  by  the  scene  of  the 
wreck,  and  as  they  got  in  sight,  a  sudden  gleam  of  sun- 
shine appeared  to  strike  the  waves  by  the  sloop's  side. 

"  What  was  that  ?" 

' '  The  diver's  helmet     He's  just  gone  down. " 

They  pulled  sharply  out,  and  soon  they  were  alongside 
the  sloop. 
15 


226  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

There  was  a  number  of  people  on  board,  watching  the 
proceedings  with  the  greatest  curiosity. 

The  mechanical  appliances  attracted  great  attention. 

The  air  pumps,  and  the  men  on  the  platform  beside 
them,  whose  duty  it  was  to  watch  for  the  slightest 
signal  of  the  venturesome  diver,  now  fathoms  deep  in 
the  sea. 

The  rounds  of  the  little  ladder  lowered  from  the  ship's 
side  to  the  water,  fixed  the  attention  of  our  two  youthfu* 
adventurers. 

"Look  down  there,  Jack,"  Harry  Girdwood  remarked, 
pointing  to  the  ladder. 

"I  see." 

"The  'Albatross'  has  gone  down  in  twelve  fathoms." 

"Look!  see  those  air  bubbles  rising  just  beyond  the 
ladder." 

The  huge  helmet  of  the  diver  appeared ;  then  the  body 
of  the  adventurous  fellow  emerged  from  the  water,  and 
he  looked  up  the  little  ladder. 

A  horrible  amphibious  monster  it  looked,  with  the  huge 
head  and  glass  goggle  eyes,  the  rude,  ungainly  limbs,  and 
the  lethal  weapons  fastened  to  the  leathern  girdle  he  wore 
round  his  loins,  an  axe  on  one  side  and  a  long-bladed 
dagger  upon  the  other. 

He  looked  armed  to  do  battle  with  the  marine  demons 
below  the  waters. 

As  soon  as  the  diver  reached  the  deck,  he  was  tended 
by  two  or  more  "valets,"  who  removed  the  lead  collar 
from  his  shoulders  and  the  metal  plates  he  wore  to  give 
his  body  the  necessary  weight  to  make  his  way  through 
the  water. 

And  when  the  huge  helmet  was  removed,  and  the 
diver's  jovial  face  was  seen,  it  was  quite  a  relief  to  all. 

The  diver  went  below  to  make  his  report,  and  when 
this  was  done,  Jack  questioned  him  eagerly. 

"Did  you  go  down  below?  "  was  his  first  question. 

"No,  Mr.  Harkaway,"  returned  our  old  friend  the 
diver;  "progress  wasn't  as  easy  as  you  might  suppose 
above  here." 

"Why's  that?" 

"The  *  Albatross'  has  got  jammed  between  two  or 
three  big  rocks,  and  the  knocking  about  that  she  has  re- 
ceived has  sent  all  the  rigging  and  such  like  all  over  the 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER.  227 

deck — in  fact,"  he  added,  with  a  grin,  "I had  to  axe  my 
way  everywhere." 

"Now  a  word  with  you,  my  friend  diver,"  said  Jack 
"I  mean  to  go  down  with  you  next  time  that  you  de- 
scend. " 

"Never." 

The  diver  evidently  looked  upon  it  as  a  very  serious 
job. 

"Why  not?"  said  Jack.  "I  want  to  go  below. 
You  don't  seem  to  care  to  go  and  get  my  locket  I  spoke 
of  to  you." 

"I  don't  like  meddling  with  dead  men  anywheres," 
said  the  diver,  "but  least  of  all  under  the  water." 

"Why?" 

"They  have  got  such  a  horrible  look  ;  they  bob  about 
with  the  motion  of  the  water,  and  look  as  if  they  were 
living — ugh  !  " 

And  the  burly  diver,  who  was  ready  to  fight  half  a 
dozen  Spaniards,  shuddered  again. 

"Well,"  said  young  Jack,  "  I  don't  care  for  such  sights 
myself,  but  I  have  a  purpose  in  view,  so  down  I  go  with 
you." 

The  diver  demurred. 

"I  should  get  into  trouble  for  taking  you  down." 

"Taking  me  down  !  Come,  I  like  that.  Why,  you 
speak  as  if  I  were  a  child.  You  can't  prevent  my  going 
if  I  choose  to  go.  Besides,  everything  is  favourable  for  the 
job.  Your  mate  hasn't  turned  up,  you  say,  and  I  can  go 
down  in  his  diving-dress." 

"Yes." 

' '  Once  inside  the  helmet,  I  defy  anyone  to  tell 
whether  it  is  Jack  Harkaway  or  Tim — whatever  his  name 
is." 

This  closed  the  discussion  most  effectually. 

The  diver  had  nothing  further  to  oppose. 

Young  Jack  found  a  pretext  for  remaining  on  board. 

The  moment  for  the  experiment  approached,  and  the 
professional  diver  passed  the  time  in  giving  his  pupil  all 
the  necessary  instructions. 

One  recommendation — a  prime  one — remained  in  his 
mind,  happily. 

"Four  tugs  at  the  air-pipe  means  'Haul  me  up.'  Do 
vou  mark? "  said  the  diver.  "  And  when  you  are  twelve 


228  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

fathoms  down  below  the  air  and  light,  you  are  apt  to  forget 
nearly  every  thing.  Whatever  you  do,  don't  forget  that 
— don't  forget  that,  Master  Harkaway,  as  you  value  your 
life." 

"Four?" 

"  Four,"  repeated  the  diver,  seriously. 

' '  All  right,"  said  young  Jack.     "  I'll  not  forget  that. " 

A  little  later  on,  the  diver  and  his  mate  emerged  from 
their  cabin  with  their  helmets  on. 

"  Hullo,"  said  the  captain  of  the  sloop,  "  I  didn't  know 
that  your  mate  had  come  over. " 

"  Yes,  cap'en,"  said  the  diver,  "  here  he  is  at  last/' 

"  That's  hearty,"  said  the  skipper.  "  Well,  the  water's 
as  smooth  as  a  millpond — nothing  could  be  better,  so  lose 
no  time,  my  lads." 


CHAPTER  XLVII. 

THE   HORRORS    OF    THE    DEEP — YOUNG    JACK    VISITS    THE    DEAD 
MEN   BENEATH   THE   WAVES — A   PERILOUS   VOYAGE. 

IT  is  no  wonder  that  the  captain  of  the  sloop  failed  to 
recognise  our  Jack. 

It  would  have  been  surprising,  indeed,  if  he  had. 

Let  a  person  who  had  never  seen  a  man  in  diving  cos- 
tume, come  upon  him  for  the  first  time,  and  it  is  very 
sure  that  he  would  not  have  believed  it  to  be  anything 
human. 

Jack's  limbs,  swathed  in  surplus  clothing,  were  double 
their  usual  size,  and  more  ungainly  and  awkward  a  fashion 
than  one  can  conceive. 

On  his  shoulders  was  a  kind  of  plate  made  of  white 
metal,  edged  with  copper,  into  which  was  screwed  a  water 
proof  jerkin,  enclosing  both  front  and  back. 

Besides  this,  there  was  a  deal  of  india-rubber  about  him, 
and  leaden-soled  boots  which  weighed  not  less  than  ten 
pounds  apiece. 

Young  Jack  had  heard  of  divers  being  attacked  by 
sharks  ;  but  as  soon  as  he  had  looked  at  himself  in  the 
looking-glass  through  the  glazed  goggle  eyes  of  his  helmet, 
he  could  not  believe  it  possible  that  the  boldest  fish  that 


ffZS  BOY  TINKER. 


229 


ever  swam  would  dare  tackle  such  a  formidable-looking 
monster. 

"No,  no,"  said  Jack,  to  himself,  "they  would  shoot 
away  for  their  lives  at  the  sight  of  such  a  horrible-looking 
thing  as  this." 

Once  by  the  ship's  side,  the  huge  and  crushing  weights 
of  lead  were  fastened  upon  his  shoulders,  and  the  shock 
was  so  sudden,  that  young  Jack  was  about  to  kick  up  a 
rumpus,  when  a  sort  of  glass  box  was  fastened  over  the 
mouth  of  his  helmet,  and  screwed  tightly  on. 

He  was  ceasing  to  breathe. 

This  awful  sensation  Jack  never  forgot ;  but,  happily, 
it  was  but  of  momentary  duration,  for  the  air-pumping 
apparatus  was  set  to  work,  and  supplied  him  with  the 
vital  fluid. 

The  signal  was  given  to  descend  the  ladder,  and  now 
began  the  most  painful  part  of  the  ordeal,  for  young  Jack 
felt  the  weight  of  the  garb  and  accoutrements  dreadfully, 
so  much  so,  in  fact,  that  he  could  scarce  move  one  leg 
before  the  other. 

In  addition  to  the  air-pipe,  there  was  a  string  which  was 
meant  to  guide  the  diver  towards  the  ladder,  in  case  he 
should  lose  his  way  under  water. 

However,  Jack,  by  a  strong  effort  of  will,  got  down  the 
ladder,  and  after  a  certain  time,  he  missed  the  action  of 
the  air  upon  his  head,  and  then  he  knew  that  he  was 
under  water. 

What  a  journey  it  seemed  ! 

Never  did  he  forget  it. 

But  the  longest  journey  comes  to  an  end,  and  at  length 
he  touched  the  bottom,  where,  to  his  intense  relief,  he 
found  the  other  diver  awaiting  him. 

The  first  remarkable  thing  was  the  wondrous  power  of 
the  water  upon  him,  notwithstanding  the  enormous  weight 
of  his  body  and  accoutrements. 

He  was  swayed  backwards  and  forwards,  and  was 
forced  to  hold  on  to  the  ladder  to  keep  himself  steady. 

The  diver  nodded  his  helmet  gravely,  and  the  effect  was 
most  weird  and  fantastic. 

He  gave  Jack  a  pat  of  encouragement,  and  held  out  his 
hand,  but  this  was  no  use,  for  the  amateur  diver  dare  not 
for  awhile  let  go  the  ladder. 

He  saw  the  seaweed  waving  fantastically  about  at  his 


YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

feet,  and  the  fishes  swam  about  him,  circling  round  and 
round,  apparently  very  much  interested  in  what  was  going 
forward,  and  all  seemed  wondrous  strange. 

Suddenly  a  tap  on  his  shoulder  reminded  him  that  he 
had  not  come  here  to  make  observations  upon  such  mat- 
ters as  these,  but  for  serious  business. 

He  let  go  the  ladder,  steadied  himself  by  an  effort,  and 
shuffled  along  until  a  dark,  shapeless  object  impeded  his 
further  progress. 

It  looked  like  some  dead  monster  of  the  deep,  ugly  and 
confused  in  outline,  so  dire  had  been  the  work  of  wind 
and  wave  upon  the  wreck  of  what  had  once  been  a  goodly 
ship,  though  not  in  our  experience. 

This  was  all  that  remained  of  the  "Albatross." 

The  two  divers  groped  their  way  along  the  vessel  until 
they  came  to  a  breach,  through  which  they  mounted,  the 
professional  diver  leading  the  way  with  infinite  care  and 
pains,  for  now  the  most  dangerous  part  of  their  work  had 
indeed  commenced. 

The  air  tubes  upon  which  they  depended  for  life  itself, 
were  in  great  peril  of  getting  twisted  in  some  projecting 
parts  of  the  wreck,  or  snapping  by  a  sudden  jerk. 

A  motion  of  his  companion's  head  showed  Jack  the  way 
that  they  had  to  go  to  seek  the  forecabin  in  which  the  un- 
happy mate  Mackenzie  was  to  be  found. 

Now  began  the  most  terrible  part  of  the  ordeal,  for  Jack 
had  to  perform  the  rest  of  his  operations  alone. 

He  groped  on,  never  pausing  to  think,  and  well  it  was, 
for  he  would  never  have  accomplished  his  self-set  task  if 
he  had. 

He  reached  the  cabin  stairs,  and  then,  with  infinite 
pains,  he  managed  to  get  down,  for  the  action  of  the  sea 
had  already  worn  away  the  woodwork  in  every  direction. 

Down  the  stairs  he  went,  groping  along,  and  then 

Oh,   Heaven  ! 

There  he  was. 

Mackenzie  was  in  the  same  position,  as  nearly  as  pos- 
sible, as  when  Jack  had  last  seen  him  in  life. 

Death  had  overtaken  him,  apparently,  in  his  drunken 
stupor. 

Jack  looked  at  the  dead  man. 

He  had  got  hold  of  the  handrail  with  his  right,  and  of  a 
low  beam  with  his  left  hand,  the  nearest  objects  at  which 


HIS  BOY  TINKER. 


231 


he  had  clutched  when  young  Harkaway  had  kicked  him 
off  in  sheer  desperation  at  the  last  moment. 

So  life-like,  so  real  it  all  looked,  that  young  Jack 
was  filled  with  a  ghostly  dread  as  he  looked  upon  the 
scene. 

Nevertheless,  his  glance  rested  upon  the  hand  which 
clutched  the  beam,  for,  hanging  from  his  fast-clenched  fist, 
he  perceived  the  fragment  of  a  chain. 

This  was  attached  to  the  locket — little  Emily's  parting 
gift. 

The  object  of  young  Jack's  perilous  adventure. 

The  grim  figure  of  the  Scotch,  mate  bobbed  up  and  down 
as  the  amateur  diver  approached,  filled  with  awesome 
dread. 

Oh,  that  was  a  terrible  time  for  the  bold  boy. 

But  he  had  set  himself  a  task,  and  it  must  be  gone 
through. 

This  stern  resolution  had  carried  him  through  many  an 
undertaking,  and  it  should  aid  him  to  bring  this  to  a  suc- 
cessful issue,  come  what  might. 

It  wanted  all  his  resolution  now,  however,  let  his  will 
be  ever  so  strong. 

With  closed  eyes,  Jack  stretched  forth  his  hand  to  grasp 
Emily's  love-token. 

The  first  contact  with  that  cold,  dead  flesh  sent  a  thrill 
throughout  his  entire  frame,  which  he  never  forgot  until 
his  dying  day. 

However,  he  kept  to  it  with  desperate  resolution. 

The  dead  man's  grip  was  fast  on  dear  little  Emily's 
locket,  and  he  failed  to  loosen  the  hand  of  the  corpse. 

He  felt  for  the  dagger  at  his  girdle. 

The  thought  of  using  a  knife  upon  a  dead  body  fathoms 
low  beneath  the  sea  was  horrible  indeed. 

But  better  not  be  there  at  all  than  recoil  before  any  thing 
now. 

Emily's  last  love-gift  he  must  regain. 

He  drew  the  keen  blade  across  the  dead  man's  fingers. 

He  clutched  the  prize  and 

Horrors  upon  horror's  head  accumulate. 

The  maipT»4.  corpse  slowly  sank  in  the  water,  and  its 
znat.  _/a&pea  Jawcs  tegs  around.  Fixed  and  fascinated 
at  the  sight,  young  Jack  remained  there  spellbound. 

His  senses  appeared  to  have  left  him,  for  he  knew  not 


232  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

how  long  he  thus  remained,  when  a  hand  was  placed 

upon  his  shoulder. 

The  diver  had  come  in  search  of  him,  alarmed  at  the 
Jong  delay. 

The  spell  was  broken. 

Guided  by  the  diver,  he  groped  his  way  up  the  cabin 
stairs  and  along  the  deck  of  the  wreck,  when  the  signal 
was  given  to  haul  up. 

It  was  a  miracle,  indeed,  that  young  Jack  ever  reached 
the  surface  alive. 

But  fearsome  as  was  the  recollection  of  that  voyage  on 
the  ocean's  bed,  he  never  regretted  it. 

He  had  gone  through  a  terrible  adventure. 

But  he  had  accomplished  his  purpose. 

He  had  recovered  his  locket,  little  Emily's  parting  love 
gift. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII. 

AIR  AND  LIGHT — THE  RECOGNITION "  SENOR   HARKAWAY,    YOU 

ARE  MY  PRISONER" — "ON  WHAT  CHARGE  ?  " — A  DESPERATE 
FIX. 

ON  reaching  the  deck  of  the  sloop  the  helmet  was  taken 
off,  and  then  a  startled  cry  burst  from  several  of  the  by- 
standers, but  the  loudest  voice  was  Harry  Girdwood's. 

"Jack,"  he  cried,  "why,  what  a  blessed  dance  you 
have  led  me." 

"  How?"  cried  Jack,  innocently  enough. 

"  How?  Why,  you  traitor.  Why  the  deuce  didn't  you 
tell  me  about  this  ?  " 

Young  Jack  leered  at  his  faithful  comrade,  and  burst  out 
laughing. 

"  I'll  tell  you  why,  old  man,"  he  said  ;  "it  is  because 
you  wouldn't  have  let  me  go." 

"  That's  right  enough,"  said  Harry  Girdwood.  "  I 
swear  I  wouldn't.  But  what  with  your  duels,  your  bull 
fights,  and  diving,  I  never  know  when  you  are  safe.  You 
keep  me  in  a  continual  ferment,  Jack." 

"  Never  mind,  old  man." 

"What  is  diving  like?" 

Jack  shuddered. 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER.  233 

"  Dreadful.  " 

"  How  dreadful?"  demanded  Harry. 

"  The  sensation  of  going  under  is  beyond  description, 
and  the  sights  you  see  below  are  things  likely  to  haunt 
your  dreams  for  a  long — long  while.  But  ugh  !  don't  let 
us  talk  of  it.  I  have  got  back  my  locket,  and  now, 
Harry,  I  should  like  to  forget  that  horrible  journey  if  I 
could." 

They  went  ashore  as  soon  as  they  could,  and  as  the  boat 
grounded,  they  perceived  that  something  unusual  was 
going  forward. 

The  beach  was  lined  with  soldiers,  in  the  midst  of  whom 
were  two  persons  that  they  recognised  at  once. 

One  of  these  persons  was  young  Herbert  Murray. 

The  other  was  Chivey. 

Now  the  excitement  of  the  latter  was  curious  to  witness 
as  soon  as  he  saw  who  were  the  occupants  of  the  boat. 

"  There,  there  !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  a  voice  which  both 
Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood heard  distinctly,  "that  is  Hark- 
away — that  one  there." 

Jack  was  the  first  to  leap  ashore,  and  advancing  to  the 
soldiers  with  all  his  old  boldness,  he  said — 

"  Yes,  I  am  Jack  Harkaway — and  who  wants  Jack 
Harkaway  ?  " 

"I  do." 

He  turned  round  as  one  of  the  officers  advanced  from 
the  file  of  soldiers. 

"You  want  me,  sefior  captain?"  said  young  Jack. 
"  Indeed." 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  For  what  purpose?" 

"  I  have  to  arrest  you." 

' '  On  what  charge  ? "  exclaimed  Harry  Girdwood. 

"  That  of  being  a  secret  agent  of  the  enemy — in  other 
words,  a  spy. " 

"  Why,  this  is  madness." 

"It  is  serious  earnest  you  will  find,"  returned  the 
officer. 

"It  is  impossible  to  bring  such  a  charge  against  me." 

"  Not  impossible,  for  you  find  the  charge  is  brought. 
My  earnest  wish  is  that  you  may  manage  to  clear  your- 
self; if  not,  death  will  follow.  Fall  in,  please.  Left 
wheel — march. " 


234  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HA  RKA  WA  Y  AND 


CHAPTER  XLIX. 

JACK    IS  TRIED — CONDEMNED   TO  DEATH — HANGING   IS  THE    DOOM 

OF    A     SPY THE     CARLISTS'     JUSTICE JACK'S     FRIENDS     RALLY 

ROUND NO    GO — THE  SIGNAL  FROM  THE  FORTRESS-TOWER AN 

OLD  NOTION  REVIVED. 

JACK  never  quite  understood  what  took  place  at  the  ex- 
amination which  he  underwent. 

A  shifty  sort  of  mock  trial  took  place  in  which  the 
prisoner  was  condemned  and  sentenced  to  be  hanged. 

"Well,  gentlemen,"  said  young  Harkaway  boldly, 
"  you  have  had  it  all  your  own  way,  and  now  perhaps  I 
may  be  allowed  to  say  a  word  or  two  to  the  court." 

The  president  of  the  court  martial,  as  this  peculiar  tri- 
bunal was  styled,  bowed  his  head  gravely  to  Jack. 

"Speak,"  he  said,  "but  be  as  brief  as  possible." 

"I  will,"  replied  Jack;  "if  you  dare  to  carry  out  this 
wretched  sentence,  you  will  have  to  answer  for  it." 

"To  whom,  pray?" 

"England." 

"  We  don't  tremble  at  the  power  of  England." 

"Which  only  shows  your  thoughtlessness,"  replied  the 
prisoner,  boldly;  "for  such  an  outcry  would  be  raised 
throughout  the  length  and  breadth  of  the  land  by  the 
murder  of  an  English  lad  by  Carlists  that  your  very  cause 
would  be  imperilled,  and  you  will  be  put  down,  as  sure 
as  my  name's  Jack  Harkaway." 

The  president  of  the  court  laughed  ironically. 

"The  lad  does  not  put  small  value  upon  himself,"  he 
said. 

"Why,  you  see,"  retorted  Jack,  boldly;  "  if  I  were 
some  obscure  poor  devil's  son,  you  could  perhaps  afford  to 
murder  me  for  chastising  one  of  your  comrade's  inso- 
lence. " 

"Hah  !" 

"Silence." 

"He  dares  insult  the  court,"  cried  another  officer, 
springing  up  and  looking  fiercely  at  Jack. 

"  Well,"  said  young  Jack,  "  from  all  appearance  that  is 
not  a  feat  requiring  any  great  amount  of  courage. " 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  235 

"Carramba/" 

' '  There  can  be  no  mistake  about  the  motive,  whatever  the 
pretext  may  be.  And  remember,  gentlemen,  that  in  that 
unfortunate  affair  I  was  not  the  aggressor.  Don  Gil  Perez 
insulted  me  first  and  challenged  me  after — I  struck  in  self- 
defence — and  much  as  I  may  regret  the  matter,  it  must  be 
borne  in  mind  that  he  forced  it  upon  me — that  I  had  no 
choice  but  to  fight.  He  fell  as  I  might  have  fallen  but 
for  my  own  proverbial  luck  standing  by  me  as  usual." 

"That  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  the  present 
charge. " 

"  You  have  no  evidence,"  said  Jack. 

"  There  you  are  wrong.  We  have  ample  evidence, 
and,  moreover,  there  are  some  of  your  fellow-countrymen 
who  give  the  most  important  testimony  against  you." 

"What !  Confront  me  with  them,  at  least,"  said  Jack, 
desperately. 

"The  case  is  fully  substantiated  without  them,"  was 
the  reply.  "The  sentence  of  the  court  you  know.  Re- 
move the  prisoner." 

The  soldiers  closed  up,  and  laid  hands  upon  young 
Jack. 

"Stop,"  said  he ;  "before  you  go  to  extremities,  let 
me  warn  you  that  I  am  English  born,  that  my  govern- 
ment does  not  allow  its  subjects  to  be  shot  with  impunity  ; 
so  beware." 

Jack  was  hurried  away  to  gaol. 

Harry  Girdwood  was  fortunately  at  large,  and  he  set  to 
work  desperately  to  get  Jack  set  at  liberty,  but  this  was 
not  easily  accomplished. 

The  captain  of  the  "Albatross"  went  straight  to  the 
Carlist  generals  to  make  representations  respecting  the 
injustice  of  the  sentence,  but  no  less  to  his  surprise  than 
indignation,  they  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  him. 

In  vain  did  he  storm  and  threaten. 

The  only  notice  taken  of  this  was  to  menace  him  with 
sharing  young  Harkaway's  fate. 

"  Joe  Deering,  my  boy,"  said  the  skipper  to  himself, 
"  that  would  never  do.  No  ;  you  mustn't  get  clapped 
into  limbo,  or  you'll  not  be  able  to  lend  the  boy  a 
hand." 

He  went  off  with  Harry  Girdwood  to  the  residence  of 
the  British  consul,  and  that  excellent  official  being  found 


236  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

at  home,  immediate  steps  were  taken  to  secure  young 
Jack's  release. 

"Jack  Harkaway  again  1  "  said  the  consul,  with  a 
stare. 

"Yes." 

"Why,  that  hot-blooded  young  countryman  of  ours  is 
always  in  hot  water,  it  seems  to  me.  When  the  '  Alba- 
tross '  foundered  and  everybody  else  was  taking  to  the 
boats,  he  was  down  below  and  had  a  narrow  escape  of 
drowning." 

"Well,  that  can't  be  said  to  have  got  him  into  hot 
water,  anyhow,"  suggested  Harry  Girdwood. 

"Well,  no,"  resumed  the  consul,  with  a  smile.  "He 
must  have  found  it  precious  cold." 

"And  damp." 

"And  damp,  as  you  say,  young  gentleman — it  is  one 
of  the  attributes  of  water.  Well,  no  sooner  is  he  out  of 
that  job  than  he  gets  into  a  duel,  and  pinks  his  man." 

"  Don  Gil  Perez  is  not  dead,"  exclaimed  the  skipper, 
anxiously. 

"No;  only  very  bad.  Well,  next  he  is  the  cause  of 
killing  a  prize  bull,  then  frightens  us  all  by  going  down  in 
a  diver's  dress,  and  now  he  gets  himself  locked  up 
and " 

"Now,"  said  the  skipper,  with  a  long  face,  "he  is  con- 
demned to  death. " 

"To  death,"  said  the  consul.  "We  live  in  ticklish 
times  here,  and  must  be  prompt.  They  think  no  more  of 
taking  a  man's  life  than  of  rolling  a  cigarette. " 

"The  savages,"  exclaimed  Harry;  "these  Spaniards 
are " 

"About  as  bad  as  Englishmen,  Frenchmen,  Germans, 
or  any  other  people  in  time  of  war." 

"  Here  we  are  at  the  Carlist's  headquarters, "  said  the 
skipper. 

"  I  will  go  in  alone,"  said  the  consul.  "I  don't  want 
to  begin  by  exasperating  them.  They  are  as  proud  as 
Lucifer,  and  we  must  go  through  certain  forms,  or  we 
may  sacrifice  our  dashing  young  Harkaway  by  our  im- 
prudence." 

They  waited  in  considerable  anxiety  for  the  consul's 
return. 

At  length  he  came. 


fflS  BOY  TINKER.  237 

The  first  glimpse  at  his  countenance  was  any  thing  but 
reassuring. 

"Well,  what's  the  verdict,  sir?"  demanded  Harry 
Girdwood,  eagerly. 

"  Mr.  Jack  Harkaway  has  been  tried  as  a  spy  and  con- 
victed." 

"  And  his  sentence?  " 

"  He  is  to  be  hanged." 

"Good  heaven!"  exclaimed  the  skipper;  "how 
awful." 

"Nothing  can  save  him." 

In  what  state  of  mind  they  walked  away,  we  leave  the 
reader  to  imagine. 

Harry  Girdwood  was  heartbroken. 

As  they  turned  round  the  citadel,  skirting  the  edge  of 
the  moat,  a  shout  from  above  attracted  their  attention. 

Looking  up,  they  saw  someone  at  a  narrow  grated 
window  waving  a  hand. 

* '  Is  that  meant  for  us  ?  " 

"Listen." 

The  sound  came  clearer  this  time,  and  they  made  it 
out — 

' '  A  Harkaway,  a  Harkaway  to  the  rescue.  *' 

Harry  Girdwood  gave  a  cry  of  delight 

"It's  Jack." 

Jack's  war  cry  served  to  rally  them  immediately. 

They  nodded,  waved  handkerchiefs,  and  shouted  back 
to  encourage  the  prisoner. 

"Captain  Deering,"  said  Harry,  "we  must  get  him 
out  of  that.  Shall  I  write  home  to  Mr.  Harkaway  ?  " 

"  No," said  the  consul,  "that  will  not  help,  and  would 
only  frighten  the  family.  We  must  see  what  we  can  do 
to  save  the  boy." 

"We  will  save  him,"  said  Harry. 

"  Yes,"  said  the  consul,  ' '  but  how  ?    That's  the  rub. " 

They  stood  looking  up  anxiously  at  the  fortress. 

It  was  a  desperate  place  to  think  of  effecting  a  rescue 
from. 

A  deadly  height  to  descend. 

A  fearful  wall  to  scale. 

Anyone  attempting  to  climb  down,  would  be  dashed  to 
pieces  beyond  the  slightest  possibility  of  doubt 

The  captain  of  the  "  Albatross  "  gave  a  shout 


238  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"I've  got  it,"  returned  the  skipper.  "Do  you  remem- 
ber, Master  Girdwood,  that  yarn  you  told  me  about  the 
Harkaways'  adventures  in  New  York,  when  your  big 
monkey  Nero  did  something  wonderful  there  at  a  fire 
somewhere." 

"Yes,  yes,"  exclaimed  Harry  Girdwood,  excitedly. 

"Well,  then,  he's  only  loafing  about  here  at  the  hotel, 
frightening  the  women,  and  Mr.  What's-his-name,  the 
orphan,  or  gorging  himself  on  nuts  and  oranges,  till  he's 
losing  his  graceful  figure  ;  let  us  make  the  beggar  work." 

' '  Bravo  for  Nero,"  shouted  Harry. 

"  He'll  do  it,"  said  the  skipper. 

"  Hurrah  for  Nero  ;  he  only  wants  putting  in  the  right 
road  to  see  his  master,  and  he'll  reach  him.  Hurrah — 
hurrah  ! " 

But  now  we  must  return  to  have  a  word  with  the  poor 
prisoner,  young  Jack  Harkaway. 


CHAPTER  L. 

JACK    IN    LIMBO — UNWELCOME    NEWS — THE    COMMUTATION   OF   HIS 
SENTENCE — A   SOLDIER'S  GRAVE — A  QUESTIONABLE  HONOUR. 

*'  STONE  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 
Nor  prison  bars  a  cage," 

sighed  Jack  Harkaway,  junior,  as  he  looked  about  his 
new  residence  ;  "  but,  with  all  due  deference  to  the  poet, 
they  do  contribute  to  keep  up  the  illusion." 

The  stone  walls  of  Jack's  place  of  confinement  were 
uncommonlv  thick. 

The  bars  were  both  thick  and  close  together,  and  firmly 
imbedded  in  the  stone  work  of  the  window. 

The  window  itself  was  a  good  nine  feet  from  the  floor. 

As  soon  as  Jack  heard  the  door  of  the  cell  fast  bolted 
upon  the  outside,  and  the  echoes  of  the  gaoler's  footsteps 
die  away  in  the  distance  of  the  long  stone-paved  corridors 
without,  he  looked  wistfully  at  the  window. 

"  I  shall  have  a  shy  at  that,"  he  said  half  aloud 

Nine  feet  up. 

No  hold. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  239 

Tne  wall  built  of  solid  blocks  of  stone — not  brick,  to 
enable  a  dreary  prisoner  to  pick  out  the  mortar  mayhap, 
and  thus  by  patience  and  perseverance  secure  a  hold  by 
which  to  mount. 

Jack  went  up,  however,  after  hard  labour  and  risk. 

Once  he  got  the  slightest  hold  upon  the  iron  bars,  he 
hung  on  like  grim  death,  raising  his  whole  body  up,  and 
getting  a  good  perch  on  the  narrow  casement. 

What  a  distance  down  it  was  to  look. 

It  made  him  dizzy. 

"  I  could  get  those  bars  out  all  right  enough,"  he  said, 
testing  the  fastenings  as  he  spoke.  "But  how  the  deuce 
could  I  get  down  there,  then?" 

How  indeed  ? 

"They  have  left  me  nothing  to  escape  by,"  he  said  to 
himself,  "  no  bedclothes." 

For  the  matter  of  that  there  was  no  bed. 

Well,  here  young  Jack  stuck,  perched  up  like  a  pool 
little  bird  fluttering  its  wings  against  the  bars  of  its  cage. 
He  saw  three  persons  go  past  along  the  edge  of  the  moat 
below. 

"That  one  is  Harry  !"  he  exclaimed,  "it  is,  and  that 
is  Captain  Deering ;  but  who  is  the  third  person  ?  I  won- 
der if  they  are  here  upon  any  business.  Oh,  they  must 
be  ;  Harry  !  ho  !  ho  !  Ho  !  ho  ! — ho  1  ho  !  " 

An  answering  shout  came  up  to  him  from  below. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  exclaimed  Jack,  "  they  can  see  me." 

They  shouted  again  and  again,  and  presently  a  faint 
semblance  to  words  of  encouragement  came  up  to  him. 

"  Wait  and  watch  t " 

"  I  will — I  will,"  returned  young  Jack. 

"Hope!" 

"They  said  'hope,'  I'm  sure,"  exclaimed  the  prisoner, 
excitedly;  "rather.  'Never  say  die,'  is  the  Harkaway 
motto." 

In  his  excitement  Jack  did  not  notice  that  there  was 
someone  in  the  stone  corridor  outside  his  cell  door. 

It  was,  in  fact,  only  when  the  door  was  swinging  open 
that  he  heard  it,  so  absorbed  was  he  in  the  prospect 
below. 

Then  with  a  look  of  alarm,  he  dropped  from  his  perch, 
and  in  his  hurry  he  came  a  very  hard  cropper  on  the 
flags. 


240  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

However,  Jack  was  no  milksop ;  so  he  scrambled  up 
and  rubbed  his  bruises,  just  as  the  new-comer  entered. 

Jack  looked  round,  and  to  his  surprise  discovered  that, 
instead  of  being  the  military  gaoler,  it  was  one  of  the 
officers  who  had  been  a  member  of  the  court  that  had 
condemned  him. 

This  officer  spoke  English  fairly  well. 

"Prisoner,"  said  he,  "  I  come  to  inform  you  that  a 
modification  has  been  made  in  your  favour,  in  regard  to 
the  sentence  pronounced  upon  you." 

Jack  bowed.     But  he  said  nothing. 

"All  brag  and  bounce  these  Dons,"  bethought.  "I 
was  certain  that  they  would  never  dare  to  put  a  British 
subject  to  death." 

He  was  making  certain  a  little  too  soon. 

"  You  have  had  the  honour  of  crossing  swords  with  one 
of  us,"  said  the  Spaniard,  loftily,  "and  it  has  therefore 
been  decreed  that  the  act  has  so  far  ennobled  you,  in 
spite  of  the  disgraceful  character  you  have  acquired,  and 
which  has  caused  you  to  be  justly  sentenced  to  die." 

Jack  bowed  again. 

"What  a  precious  old  wind-bag  this  fellow  is,"  he  said. 
"What  is  he  driving  at,  I  wonder?" 

The  news  he  was  to  learn  would  be  communicated 
quite  soon  enough  for  Jack. 

He  need  not  be  impatient  to  hear  it 

"The  honourable  court  which  tried  you  has  decided 
that  you  shall  be  spared  the  humiliation  of  dying  by  the 
hangman's  hands." 

"  I  didn't  expect  to " 

"You  are  to  have  a  soldier's  death — a  warrior's  grave. 
At  daybreak  to-morrow  you  will  be  conducted  to  the 
ground  by  a  file  of  soldiers.  Don  Gil  Perez  will  himself 
command  the  firing  party." 

The  officer  bowed  haughtily,  and  made  his  exit,  leaving 
the  prisoner  dazed — bewildered — stupefied. 

"  Am  I  dreaming  ?  " 

No ;  the  gloomy  walls,  the  frowning  bars  above,  the 
dreary  prison,  were  dreadful  realities. 

It  was  no  dream. 

"Do  they  really  mean  that  they  will  dare  to  murder 
me  in  the  name  of  justice  ? "  he  exclaimed,  aloud. 

There  was  small  doubt  of  this. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  241 

They  would  dare  any  thing. 

Poor  Jack  felt  precious  unhappy  now. 

"That  fellow  meant  it,"  he  said  to  himself;  "there 
was  a  murderous  look  about  his  eye.  Harry,  my  boy, 
you  will  have  to  be  smart  in  your  movements  if  you  wish 
to  save  your  old  chum  Jack. " 

He  thought  of  home  now  that  he  was  in  a  really  serious 
dilemma,  and  wondered  if  he  should  ever  see  his  mother 
or  his  Emily  any  more. 

"I  wish  dad  and  Uncle  Dick  were  here.  Oh,  if  I  could 
but  send  to  them,"  he  said,  to  himself,  again  and  again  ; 
"they  would  find  some  way  out  of  this  job  for  a  cer- 
tainty. But  I  fear  that  poor  Harry  won't  carry  enough 
weight  to  make  these  thieves  and  murderers  take  any 
particular  notice." 

He  sighed  and  sang  to  kill  dull  care,  but  his  heart  was 
heavy  as  lead. 

•*  There's  a  sweet  little  cherub  as  sits  up  aloft, 
To  keep  watch  o'er  the  life  of  poor  Jack." 

"No,  no,  my  cherub  has  shifted  his  moorings,  and 
scudded  away  ;  I'm  left  to  my  fate  this  time.  What  will 
poor  old  Sobersides  say  ?  What  will  they  say  at  home  ?  " 


CHAPTER  LI. 

NERO'S  MONKEY  TRICKS  AND  WHAT  CAME  OF  THEM — THE  TALE 

OF  A  KNOTTED   ROPE — THE  SENTRY'S  SHOT — IN  THE  MOAT 

HARRY    GIRDWOOD'S    ESCAPADE — CATCHING  A  TARTAR — POOR 

DON  ! 

"THAT  sits  up  aloft" 

Happy  thought. 

He  would  have  another  look  from  his  perch  in  the 
grated  window. 

"It  is  a  tough  job  getting  up,"  grunted  the  prisoner, 
quaintly,  "yet  I  managed  to  come  down  pretty  fast 
too." 

However,  he  was  up  again  quick  enough. 

"  I  wish  it  was  no  further  to  drop  outside  than  it  is 
16 


2  42  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

here,"  said  Jack,  looking  down  into  the  cell  ;  "I'd  be  out 
then  like  a  bird." 

"  I'm  a  sweet  little  cl:erub,  perched  here  up  aloft, 
But  I  can't  save  the  life  of  poor  Jack        " 

"Hallo!" 
What  was  that? 

A  strange  squeaking  sound,  \vhich  was  almost  familiar 
!o  his  ear,  sent  the  blood  from  his  cheeks. 
"How  strange,"  he  murmured.     "How   wonderfully 


He  peered  through  the  bars  as  far  as  he  could. 

The  squeaking  noise  came  again. 

And  now  he  caught  a  glimpse  of  some  huge  hairy 
object  on  the  wall  a  little  to  the  left,  and  about  twelve  or 
fourteen  feet  below  the  window. 

"Nero  !  "  gasped  the  prisoner.     "  It  is,  it  is  Nero." 

"  Nero  it  was  too. 

Toiling  up  a  wall  nearly  perpendicular,  with  scarcely  a 
hold  for  his  paws  —  we  beg  his  pardon  —  his  hands,  and 
helped  but  slightly  in  his  progress  by  the  huge  iron  drain 
pipe  which  descended  from  the  roof  to  the  moat,  the 
faithful  Nero  was  fighting  manfully  —  it  would  perhaps  be 
more  appropriate  to  say  monkeyfully  —  with  the  difficulties 
besetting  his  task. 

"Nero." 

"  Tweek  !  "  responded  Nero,  quite  joyfully. 

The  sound  of  his  master's  voice  gave  the  faithful  animal 
fresh  courage  and  renewed  strength. 

He  toiled  onward. 

Painfully  slow  was  his  progress. 

But  up  he  went. 

"Brave  Nero,"  said  Jack,  coaxingly,  "good  Nero. 
Come  along,  come  along.  Hold  tight,  good  Nero." 

"Hah!" 

He  shot  out  his  hand,  and  caught  Nero  by  the  paw. 

The  assistance  came  exactly  in  the  nick  of  time. 

Nero  was  getting  used  up,  and  at  the  very  moment  he 
got  assistance  from  his  master. 

A  moment  more  and  he  was  up  perched  on  the  casement, 
holding  tight  on  by  the  bars. 

"My  good  Nero,"  cried  Jack,  again  and  again,  quite 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  243 

overjoyed  at  this  meeting  with  his  faithful  dumb  fol- 
lower. 

Nero  squeaked  his  responses  to  his  master's  greeting, 
and  looked  as  happy  as  you  could  wish,  and  he  scratched 
away  merrily  at  his  ribs  in  sheer  glee. 

"  Hullo  !  "  exclaimed  Jack.      "Whatever  is  this?  " 

A  satchel  fastened  to  his  side  by  a  strap  across  his 
shoulder. 

Nero  thrust  the  satchel  up  to  Jack,  and  eagerly  opening 
it,  he  found  first  of  all  the  following  note  hurriedly  written 
by  Harry  Girdwood. 

"DEAR  JACK, — We  are  waiting  and  watching  below. 
Take  the  file  out  of  Nero's  bag,  and  get  through  the  bars 
quickly.  There  is  a  ball  of  string  in  the  bag.  Make  one 
end  secure  above,  and  lower  the  other  to  us,  where  we 
are  hiding  in  the  moat  just  underneath.  That  is  why  you 
have  not  been  able  to  see  us  before.  We  will  fasten  a 
thick  knotted  rope  to  the  end  of  your  string,  and  you  can 
haul  it  up.  Time  presses.  Keep  your  nut  cool,  and  lose 
no  time. 

"HARRY." 

"  God  bless  you,  Harry,"  cried  Jack,  fervently.  "  What 
an  ungrateful  beast  I  was  to  doubt  your  wit  as  well  as 
your  good  will." 

He  dipped  into  Nero's  satchel,  and  brought  out  the  ball 
of  string,  a  file,  and  a  small  phial  of  oil. 

First  to  lower  the  string. 

The  end  was  made  fast  to  one  of  the  iron  bars,  and  the 
ball  dropped  down. 

A  few  seconds  passed. 

Then  the  string  was  gently  tugged. 

It  had  reached  the  moat. 

"Now  for  the  bars." 

They  wanted  no  filing. 

Yet  the  file  proved  remarkably  useful,  for  with  its 
pointed  end,  he  contrived  to  pick  away  the  cement  bed  of 
the  bars  and  loosen  them  in  their  sockets. 

Once  he  had  got  one  of  them  away  bodily,  the  rest  was 
easy. 

The  string  was  pulled  again  from  below. 

Ready ! 


244  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

They  had  fastened  the  knotted  rope  on  to  it 

So  Jack  hauled  up. 

In  a  very  little  while  he  had  the  rope  up  and  the  top 
of  it  fastened  securely  to  the  grating  of  the  window. 

' '  Now,  Nero, "  said  his  master,  ' '  down  you  go  first. " 

Nero  got  out  and  slid  down  the  rope  at  a  rattling  pace. 

Then  Jack  followed  suit. 

Suddenly  from  the  moat  there  came  a  cry  of  alarm. 

Captain  Joe  Deering  and  Harry  Girdwood  were  hiding, 
as  the  latter  had  said  in  his  note,  in  the  moat  just  beneath 
the  spot  where  Jack's  prison  window  was  situated  high  up 
aloft. 

And  as  they  watched  Jack's  progress  down  the  knotted 
rope,  the  skipper  saw  a  soldier  appear  on  the  rampart 
immediately  below  the  further  bastion. 

The  soldier  stared  again  at  the  old  spectacle  of  a 
human  figure  swaying  about  in  mid  air  upon  the  frail  sup- 
port of  a  rope. 

Then  apparently  guessing  what  it  meant,  he  brought 
his  rifle  up  to  his  shoulder,  took  deliberate  aim  and 

The  skipper  yelled. 

Bang  went  the  rifle,  but  the  soldier  was  probably  put 
off  his  aim  by  the  cry,  and  the  ball  whistled  harmlessly 
by. 

"Make  haste,  Jack  !" 

"  I'm  there,"  responded  our  hero. 

And  down  he  scrambled,  and  was  caught  in  the 
skipper's  arms. 

Meanwhile  there  was  a  devil  of  a  hubbub  going  on 
within  the  fortress. 

Drums  beating,  a  bugle  sounding  the  alarm,  and  guns 
firing. 

Jack  found  them  in  their  very  damp  hiding-place,  and 
a  hurried  council  of  war  was  held. 

"That  sentry  has  spoilt  us,"  said  Deering.  "We  shall 
all  be  laid  by  the  heels,  every  mother's  son  of  us.  *' 

' '  I  fear  so, "  said  Harry  Girdwood,  despondingly. 

"Wait  a  bit." 

"What  shall  we  do?" 

A  harsh,  grating  noise  reached  them  and  gave  them  an 
uncomfortable  turn. 

' '  You  guess  what  that  is,  I  suppose  ?  "  said  the  skip- 
per. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  24$ 

"No." 

'Nor  I." 

'  I  should  say  it  is  the  drawbridge  being  raised." 
'I  don't  believe  they  are  movable,"  said  Jack. 
'  They  are.     Hark  !  there  goes  the  other  one  up." 
'  Then  we  are  trapped." 
'I  fear  so." 

'What's  to  be  done!" 

Bugle  calls  and  drum  alarums  went  off  just  the  same  as 
ever. 

Continentals  of  all  countries  have  a  great  weakness  for 
military  noises — they  share  with  the  dusky  aborigines  of 
America  and  of  Africa,  the  fancy  for  letting  their  warriors 
kick  up  as  much  of  a  shindy  as  possible. 

These  Carlists  distinguished  themselves  greatly,  there- 
fore, by  the  row  they  made. 

Now  this  place  was  like  many  of  the  old  fortified  towns 
upon  the  Continent  ;  it  had  its  citadel  surrounded  by  a 
double  moat. 

Bad  luck  for  our  friends  this. 

Forts  and  fortified  towns  have  been  long  ago  proved 
useless  in  modern  warfare,  and  moats  only  serve  to  yield 
up  death-dealing  miasma,  however  advantageous  they 
might  have  been  in  the  days  when  they  fought  with  bows 
and  arrows,  and  slings,  and  catapults,  and  poured  hot 
lead  and  such  trifles  from  the  battlements  upon  besiegers 
below. 

But  in  Spain  you  know  they  are  a  century  or  two  be- 
hind the  age  ;  Bryant  and  May  have  been  worsted  in  a 
tough  fight  with  flint  and  steel  and  tinder-box ;  and  moats 
and  drawbridges  still  flourish  in  fortified  towns. 

Worse  luck  for  Jack  Harkaway  and  his  companions. 
'  What's  to  be  done  now  ?  "  asked  Jack,  doubtfully. 
'  Hanged  if  I  know  !  "  said  the  captain. 
'Separate,"  suggested  Harry  Gird  wood.      "We  shall 
all  be  taken  of  a  heap  if  we  don't." 
Good  !  " 

I'm  off  this  way,"  remarked  Captain  Deering. 
'And  I'm  going  to  the  left,"  said  Jack,  gliding  off  as 
he  spoke.     "  Off  you  go,  Harry." 
Harry  Girdwood  popped  up  his  head. 
No  one  was  about. 
The  coast  was  clear. 


2  46  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

He  scrambled  up  on  to  the  ground  above,  and  sheltered 
from  observation  by  some  dwarf  shrubs  (which  had  been 
allowed  to  grow  unmolested,  although  against  the  ele- 
mentary rules  of  such  kind  of  fortifications,  so  long  had 
the  works  of  the  old  citadel  and  its  surroundings  fallen 
into  disuse),  he  gained  the  second  moat. 

Here  he  dropped  gingerly  down  and  made  for  the  driest 
part  he  could  find. 

Then  up  he  went  on  the  other  side,  and  staring  about 
him,  made  a  dash  for  the  town. 

Now  before  he  had  got  half  a  start,  there  was  a  cry 
raised  from  a  low-roofed  house,  little  more  than  a  hut, 
and  a  man  ran  out  in  pursuit. 

He  yelled  out  something  at  Harry  which  he  did  not  at 
all  understand,  nor  did  he  wish  to,  and  made  the  pace 
very  hot. 

Harry  Girdwood  looked  over  his  shoulder  at  his  pur- 
suer. 

Only  one. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  bolt  away  from  one  man,"  he 
thought.  "  The  Dons  would  never  leave  off  bragging." 

So  being  artful,  he  let  the  man  catch  him  up  without 
appearing  to  stop  for  him,  and  then  just  as  the  man 
dropped  his  hand  upon  his  shoulder,  Harry  swung  round, 
and  dropped  the  Spaniard  a  stinger  on  the  face. 

The  fellow  saw  fireworks,  and  staggered. 

He  "carajo'd"  and  "  caramba'd"  all  over  the  place 
and  drew  a  knife. 

But  Harry  dodged  the  knife,  and  dropped  in  his  British 
weapons  straight  from  the  shoulder. 

It  was  all  over  very  quickly,  and  the  Spaniard,  being 
utterly  unused  to  such  unceremonious  treatment,  laid 
down  on  his  back,  and  bellowed  for  help. 

"Good-morning,"  said  Harry,  giving  him  a  farewell 
kick  upon  his  seat  of  honour. 

Off  he  bolted. 

This  Spaniard  ever  after  vowed  that  Englishmen  were 
worse  than  savages. 

Never  in  all  his  life  had  he  caught  such  a  Tartar. 

It  is  really  very  unpleasant  to  think  that  he  should  have 
run  so  hard  after  what  he  got  from  Harry. 

Poor  Don  ! 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  347 


CHAPTER  LII. 

THE   GRAVE — MARTIAL   LAW — NERO's   EXPLOIT,    AND   WHAT   CAME 
OF  IT — BRITISH  TARS  TO  THE  RESCUE — FLIGHT   FROM   SPAIN. 

WHEN  Harry  Girdwood  got  to  the  hotel,  he  met  Captain 
Deering  quietly  smoking  a  cigar  upon  the  threshold. 

He  stared  and  rubbed  his  eyes  at  this  like  a  dreamer 
newly  awakened. 

"  Hallo  !  " 

"  I'm  glad  to  see  you  safe  out  of  that  little  job." 

"  And  I  you,"  responded  the  still  puzzled  Harry.  "  But 
how  the  deuce  did  you  manage  to  get  here  so  quickly  ?  " 

"  I  sneaked  along  and  then  turned  my  coat  inside  out, 
pulled  my  cap  well  over  my  head,  and  crawled  up  out  of 
the  moat  by  some  unlucky  chance  near  the  guard-house. 
It  gave  me  a  twinge,  I  can  tell  you,  when  I  found  myself 
scrambling  up  close  under  the  belly  of  a  horse.  On  the 
horse  was  seated  an  officer,  who  was  sniffing  all  over  the 
shop  for  me,  I  suppose,  and  there  was  I  just  under  his 
sniffer.  I  saw  a  chance,  and  before  Mister  Don  Officer 
had  time  to  look  down,  I  lugged  hold  of  him,  pulled  him 
out  of  the  saddle,  pitched  him  into  the  ditch,  and  put 
myself  in  his  place. " 

"  Bravo,  captain  !  " 

"Wasn't  half  bad,  was  it?"  said  Deering,  complacently. 

"  It  was  immense,"  exclaimed  Harry.  "  But  how  did 
you  get  off  without  being  molested  ?  " 

"  I  rode  quickly  off." 

"  But  the  officer — surely  he  made  a  rumpus  ?  " 

"Well,  no,"  returned  the  skipper,  drily;  "he  went 
down  head  first,  and  as  he  fell  on  nothing  particularly 
soft  excepting  his  head,  he  lay  very  quietly  just  where  he 
dropped,  while  I  dug  my  heels  into  the  horse's  ribs  and 
galloped  off." 

"  Bravo  !  " 

"  Well,  as  soon  as  I  got  some  distance  away,  I  reined 
in  my  fiery  steed,  turned  him  round,  scrambled  out  of  the 
saddle,  and  sent  him  flying  back  riderless  towards  the 
fortifications.  Then,  to  provide  against  accidents,  I 


248  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

loafed  about  here  looking  as  much  as  possible  as  though 
I  had  been  occupied  in  loafing  for  the  entire  day.  And 
I  think  I  may  say  that,  bar  accidents,  I  have  established 
about  as  neat  an  alibi  as  any  Old  Bailey  lawyer  could 
wish  for." 

"  Well  done.  Now  I'll  just  change  my  togs  a  bit,  and 
return  to  you." 

Harry  soon  returned,  and  then  they  looked  anxiously 
about  :  firstly,  for  poor  Jack,  a"nd  secondly,  to  see  how 
the  passers-by  might  regard  them. 

A  patrol  passed  by,  going  to  relieve  guard  evidently. 

The  officer  of  the  watch  eyed  them  keenly,  for  all  the 
English  residents  from  the  wrecked  "Albatross"  were 
objects  of  suspicion. 

But  the  lazy,  lazzaroni  looks  of  Captain  Deering  and 
his  companion  quite  put  them  off  the  scent. 

"We  are  safe  enough,"  said  the  skipper;  "they  are 
,  vidently  quite  off  the  scent." 

"  They  are,"  said  Harry  Gird  wood  ;  "  and  I  only  wish 

e  could  say  as  much  for  poor  Jack." 
'  He  may  be  safe  enough  yet,"  said  the  skipper. 
'  I  begin  to  feel  uncomfortable  about  it." 
'Wait." 
'  We  must. " 

'  It  is  very  likely  that  he  has  had  to  skulk  down  in  the 
moat  for  a  very  long  while,  and  will  only  be  able  to  creep 
out  of  his  hiding-place  after  dark." 

"  Let  us  hope  we  shall  soon  see  him." 

But  no  such  luck. 

Before  long  the  Cockney  military  waiter  brought  them 
news. 

News  which  confirmed  their  worst  anticipations  about 
poor  young  Jack  Harkaway. 

"  He  was  surrounded  in  the  moat,  it  seems,"  said  the 
waiter,  "  and  although  he  fought  like  a  tiger-cat,  accord- 
ing to  the  soldiers,  he  was,  of  course,  powerless  against 
a  mob  of  armed  men." 

"And  what  is  done  with  him  now  ? "  demanded  Harry. 

"He  is  taken  back  to  prison,  and  to-morrow  morning 
at  daybreak,  if  nothing  interferes  to  save  him,  he  will 
oe " 

He  paused. 

' '  Be  what  ?  "  demanded  Harry,  breathlessly. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  249 

"  Shot  behind  the  chapel,"  was  the  waiter's  reply. 

Shot! 

What  a  fearful  sound  that  word  had. 

"  Oh,  Captain  Deering,"  exclaimed  Harry  Girdwood, 
in  the  greatest  distress,  ' '  surely  there  is  yet  some  means 
of  saving  my  poor,  dear  Jack.  What  can  be  done  ? " 

"  There  is  but  one  thing  now,"  returned  the  skipper. 

"And  that  is  ?  " 

"Wait  till  daybreak,"  said  Captain  Deering,  "and  then 
be  there  in  as  strong  force  as  we  can  muster." 

"That's  a  poor  chance." 

' '  I  don't  know  that.  The  firing  party  will  not  be  very 
strong." 

' '  Perhaps  twelve. " 

' '  Well,  and  what's  twelve  Spaniards  ?  "  exclaimed  the 
captain,  with  the  true  British  contempt  for  foreigners. 

"What's  twelve  Spaniards?"  remarked  Harry,  drily. 
"Why,  about  a  dozen,  I  suppose." 

"Well,  with  half-a-dozen  Englishmen  with  good  stout 
cudgels,"  said  Captain  Deering,  "you  shall  see  what'll 
take  place." 

Harry  Girdwood  was  inspired  by  the  speaker's  confi- 
dent air,  notwithstanding  his  gloomy  forebodings. 

"Let  us  get  in  and  muster  our  forces  at  once,"  he 
said. 

"Good." 

"  I've  got  to  beat  up  Nat  Cringle  to  begin  with." 

"  He's  the  sort.  Let's  get  one  or  two  of  those  tough 
old  tars,  and  we  shall  have  some  real  sport  with  the 
Dons." 

' '  You  will  find  I  and  the  diver  will  not  be  far  away, 
sir,"  said  the  waiter. 

"Glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Harry. 

Well,  they  matured  some  sort  of  a  plan  of  action,  but 
whether  it  was  good  or  bad  can  only  be  learnt  by  reading 
further  on. 


Daybreak. 

A  dull,  drizzling  morning,  with  the  sun  struggling  in 
vain  to  peer  through  the  mist. 

Behind  the  chapel,  the  spot  appointed  for  the  tragedy 
to  take  place,  a  grave  had  been  recently  dug-. 


2$0  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

It  was  situated  just  at  the  base  of  a  tree,  a  long,  droop- 
ing branch  of  which  hung  over  into  the  grave  itself. 

This  was  where  they  meant  to  put  young  Jack  Harka- 
way  out  of  the  world. 

This  spot  was  quite  deserted  now. 

Not  a  sign  of  a  soul  in  sight. 

Surely  young  Jack's  friends  were  astir? 

Unless  they  were,  there  would  be  but  small  chance  for 
him. 

We  shall  see. 

The  chapel  bell  struck  five,  and  then  it  tolled  on  a  dis- 
mal knell  as  the  regular  tramp  of  the  military  was  heard. 

Then  there  appeared  two  soldiers  walking  along  with 
their  muskets  under  their  arms,  the  muzzles  pointed  to 
the  ground. 

After  them  came  the  prisoner,  young  Jack,  with  form 
erect  and  a  firm  step,  although  the  pallor  of  his  cheek 
showed  that  he  was  far  from  being  insensible  to  the 
solemnity  of  the  situation. 

Beside  young  Jack  walked  a  priest,  crucifix  in  hand, 
and  exhorting  the  prisoner,  with  great  earnestness,  to  die 
in  the  good  faith. 

Jack  pretended  to  listen,  but  his  thoughts  were  very  far 
from  the  subject  of  the  holy  man's  words. 

Moreover,  he  could  not  understand  a  single  syllable 
that  was  spoken,  for  the  priest  only  spoke  Spanish,  of 
which  Jack  was  ignorant. 

They  took  the  prisoner  up  to  the  edge  of  the  grave, 
and  placed  him  in  position  there. 

Oh,  what  sad  thoughts  passed  through  the  boy's  mind 
at  that  moment  ! 

Father,  mother,  Dick  Harvey  and  his  wife,  little  Emily, 
his  sweetheart — all,  all  came  before  his  mind's  eye. 

"And  shall  I  die  thus?"  thought  young  Jack.  "Far 
away  from  all  I  hold  dear.  Oh,  it  is  horrible." 

And  the  brave  boy's  courage  for  a  moment  left  him. 

The  soldiers,  at  an  order  from  the  sergeant,  grounded 
arms  and  waited. 

Waited  for  what  ? 

For  somebody  to  arrive  apparently. 

Presently  the  prisoner's  curiosity — 'for  curiosity  he  cer- 
tainly did  feel  upon  this  subject — was  gratified. 

A  measured   tramp  was  heard,   and  four  soldiers  ap- 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  251 

peared,  bearing  a  litter,  upon  which  reclined,  pale  and 
almost  done  to  death,  Jack's  wounded  adversary,  Don  Gil 
Perez. 

Jack  started,  in  spite  of  himself,  nor  could  he  repress  a 
slight  exclamation  of  surprise. 

It  was  then  true  that  this  vindictive  scoundrel  had 
worked  his  destruction,  in  revenge  for  being  worsted  in 
the  encounter  with  his  gallant  boy  opponent. 

"  Halt !  "  said  the  wounded  officer. 

The  litter  was  placed  by  his  orders  near  the  spot  where 
the  prisoner  stood. 

"  You  have  to  die,"  he  said,  in  broken  English,  and 
speaking  with  difficulty,  while  his  eyes  glistened  with 
fiend-like  viciousness  ;  "to  die  for  venturing  to  play  a 
villain's  part,  to  die  as  a  spy,  although  we  have  been  mer- 
ciful, and  not  decided  to  string  you  up  like  a  dog,  which 
is  the  fitting  punishment  for  such  as  you. " 

Jack  turned  upon  him  with  a  look  of  ineffable  scorn. 

"I  don't  fear  death,  Don  Gil  Perez,"  he  said,  "for  I 
come  of  a  brave  race,  and  have  been  taught  to  face  death 
long  ago.  But  you  must  not  think  that  you  will  escape 
the  fruits  of  your  crime.  This  assassination  will  cost  you 
and  your  party  dear." 

The  officer  smiled  then  in  a  sickly,  sardonic  way. 

"  You  must  brag  on  the  brink  of  the  grave,"  he  said. 

Jack  gave  him  a  defiant  look,  and  snapped  his  fingers  in 
his  face. 

"  You  are  a  very  good  witness,"  he  said,  "that  I  can 
do  something  as  well  as  brag.  Give  me  a  sword,  coward, 
if  you  dare,  and  stand  before  me. " 

The  wounded  man  flushed  purple  at  the  taunt. 

He  scowled  at  the  defiant  Jack  and  gave  the  word  of 
command. 

"Fall  in!" 

The  soldiers  pressed  into  position. 

' '  Attention  !     Make  ready  !     Present " 

Jack's  heart  stood  still.  An  awful  moment  was  this 
indeed  for  luckless  Jack,  tottering,  as  it  were,  upon  the 
threshold  of  the  world  to  come. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  scrambling  sound  in  a  tree  over- 
hanging the  grave,  and  some  large  object  flopped  down 
out  of  the  thickest  part  of  it,  plump  on  to  t^  \Uter  occu- 
pied by  the  wounded  officer. 


252  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

Don  Gil  Perez  was  canted  out  by  the  shock,  and  his 
strange  assailant  danced  around  him  like  a  redskin  in  a  fit. 

Jack  stared  again. 

Then  the  impulse  to  laugh  became  irresistible.  He  burst 
into  such  a  fit  of  merriment  that  the  soldiers  were  stag- 
gered. 

They  had  met  courageous  men  on  the  field  who  took 
peril  lightly. 

But  seldom  had  they  seen  a  doomed  wretch — a  mere 
boy — laugh  in  the  very  teeth  of  the  firing  party. 

"  Go  on,  Nero,"  cried  Jack,  pointing  to  the  grave, 
''  shove  him  into  here — throw  him  in  !  " 

The  gesture  accompanying  young  Jack's  words  gave 
him  an  inkling  of  his  meaning,  for  Nero  made  a  rush  at 
the  officer,  and  rolled  him  fairly  over  into  the  grave. 

At  the  same  moment  the  firing  party  were  suddenly  at- 
tacked in  the  rear.  A  desperate  crack  from  a  heavy  stick 
brought  the  sergeant  to  the  ground,  and  a  few  flourishes 
of  the  same  formidable  cudgel,  dexterously  landed  upon 
their  heads,  made  two  of  the  soldiers  drop  their  muskets. 

"  Hurrah!  Nat  Cringle  !  "  cried  the  prisoner,  joyfully. 
"I'm  in  it!" 

He  was  too,  in  half  a  crack. 

The  soldiers  were  taken  completely  by  surprise,  and 
did  not  stand  half  a  chance,  notwithstanding  their  weapons 
and  their  discipline. 

They  were  all  disarmed  in  the  confusion  which  pre- 
vailed. 

The  only  one  of  them  who  had  managed  to  keep  hold 
of  his  musket  was  attacked  in  the  rear  in  the  most  un- 
manly way  by  Nero,  who  tore  out  his  hair. 

This  one  dropped  his  musket,  and  fled,  roaring  lustily 
for  help. 

Now  the  sergeant,  having  recovered  from  the  effects  of 
the  first  surprise,  turned  to  show  fight,  but  Captain  Deering 
covered  him  with  one  of  the  muskets,  while  Jack  disarmed 
him. 

Nat  Cringle  and  two  of  his  mates  secured  the  rest  of  the 
firearms,  and  then  they  turned  to  retreat. 

*'  Now  for  the  beach,"  cried  Captain  Deering.  "Sharp's 
'he  word,  or  the  fool  that  bolted  away  howling  will  be 
back  with  A!\  the  army." 

"Off  we  go.  - 


fffS  BOY  TINKER. 


253 


They  divided  the  spoil — the  muskets  of  the  soldiers — 
fairly  between  them,  so  that  one  should  not  be  unduly 
encumbered  by  the  weight,  and  then  they  made  a  good 
quick  run  for  it 

But  before  they  had  got  two  or  three  steps,  the  disarmed 
soldiers  made  a  show  of  pursuing  them. 

So  Harry  Girdwood  and  Nat  Cringle  turned  round  to 
menace  them  with  their  own  guns. 

"Stir  a  peg,  you  Spanish  brutes,  and  I  blaze  away, 
damme  !  "  said  old  Nat 

They  all  fell  back  before  the  pair  of  muskets,  and  the 
party  got  off  to  the  beach. 

"  Tell  us  what  we  are  coming  here  for,  Captain  Deer- 
ing?"  said  Jack. 

"  To  get  afloat  safe  and  sound,"  was  the  reply  ;  "for 
this  place'll  be  too  hot  to  hold  us,  after  that  job." 

A  long-boat  was  ready  waiting  for  them,  so  in  they  got 
and  shoved  off,  just  as  a  strong  detachment  of  the  mili- 
tary came  pelting  down  to  the  beach  at  the  pas  gymnas- 
tique. 

The  soldiers  swore  and  shook  their  fists  after  the  re- 
ceding boat  ;  but  the  Englishmen  made  but  one  reply,  and 
this  was  only  by  gesture,  which  goaded  the  military  to 
fury. 

But  the  crowning  insult  was  offered  by  Nero. 

That  valiant  monkey  sat  astern,  taking  a  two-handed 
sight  in  addition  to  putting  his  tongue  out  at  the  soldiers. 

"  Give  it  'em,  Nero." 

Nero  caught  a  flea  to  show  his  appreciation  of  his  mas- 
ter's words  of  encouragement,  and  carried  on  all  sorts  of 
antics. 

"  Look  out,"  exclaimed  Nat;  "they're  going  to  fire  at 
us." 

It  looked  like  it. 

They  had  brought  up  their  muskets  to  the  "present." 

Quick  as  lightning  Captain  Deering  and  Harry  Gird- 
wood,  who  had  half  anticipated  this,  had  their  muskets 
ready  to  reply  to  it. 

"  Two  can  play  at  that." 

"  Bang  !  "  went  a  couple  of  shots.  One  whistled  harm- 
lessly over  their  heads;  the  other  struck  the  boat  just 
below  the  water  line,  and  so  being  nearly  spent  by  the 
water,  did  no  damage. 


254  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"  Take  that,"  cried  Captain  Deering  ;  and  blazed  away 

One  of  the  soldiers  was  seen  to  stagger  and  fall. 

"  Hit  him,  by  jingo  !  " 

Two  more  shots  from  the  boat  threw  the  soldiers  into 
confusion. 

"  Soon  silenced  their  batteries,"  said  Nat,  grimly. 

"  Pull  hard,"  said  the  skipper  ;  "  their  next  move  will 
be  to  send  boats  off  in  pursuit." 

"  Let  them  come,"  said  Jack. 

"  Rather  ;  let  us  get  on  board  sharp,  for  I  for  one  have 
had  all  the  fun  that  I  can  wish  for  out  of  these  murdering 
thieves. " 

Boats  were  launched  from  the  beach — no  less  than  three 
— and  these  were  quickly  rilled  with  armed  men. 

But  the  fugitives  had  a  good  long  start,  and,  moreover, 
the  rowers  were  old  salts,  well  up  to  their  work ;  most  ot 
them  had  served  in  the  Royal  Navy,  and  could  put  the 
steam  on  without  flurrying  themselves  at  all. 

They  were  soon  on  board  the  English  vessel  waiting 
for  them,  where  Captain  Deering  had  secured  passages  for 
all,  and  Jack  received  a  hearty  welcome  from  many  friends 
he  did  not  expect  to  see  on  board. 

But  for  the  lucky  accident  of  this  vessel  being  there,  the 
gallant  and  audacious  rescue  of  young  Jack  would  have 
been  useless  ;  for  the  Spaniards  were  mad  over  the  job. 

"  Hullo,"  said  the  commander  of  the  vessel,  to  Deering ; 
"  are  those  boats  coming  after  you?  " 

"Yes." 

"  We've  weighed  anchor.  So  slope's  the  word.  If  we 
stop  any  longer,  we  shall  have  to  sink  those  boats  with  a 
shot  from  our  little  deck  gun,  and  that's  what  I  don't 
want." 

They  worked  the  ship  smartly  enough,  the  men  from  the 
"Albatross"  aiding,  and  they  were  precious  soon  a  good 
distance  out  at  sea,  scudding  along  with  full  sails  set,  and 
a  favourable  wind. 

The  orphan,  the  English  waiter,  and  the  diver  were  all 
eager  to  shake  young  Jack  by  the  hand.  Lucky  Jack  1 


fflS  BOY  TINKER.  ,55 


CHAPTER  LIII. 

MASTER  AND  MAN  AGAIN — OSTENTATION,  EXPLANATION,  RECRIMI- 
NATION— HOW  CHIVEY  SHOWS  HIS  CARDS — UGLY  WORDS  PASS — 
THEY  COME  TO  AN  UNDERSTANDING — WHAT  CAME  OF  IT. 

As  the  ship  faded  away  in  the  distance,  bearing  Jack 
Harkaway  junior,  and  his  triumphant  colleagues  to  newer 
climes  and  fresh  adventures,  there  was  a  whole  mob  of 
disappointed  and  defeated  men  upon  the  beach. 

And  amongst  the  mob  were  two  English  lads,  who  were 
as  full  of  disappointment  as  any  of  the  Spaniards. 

One  of  these  English  youths  was  Herbert  Murray,  the 
other  was  his  groom,  valet,  confidant,  his  fidus  Achates, 
and  his  most  dangerous  acquaintance,  Chivey. 

"  These  are  English,"  said  one  of  the  soldiers,  when  it 
became  apparent  to  all  that  the  pursuit  was  a  failure ; 
"  let  us  arrest  them." 

And  arrested  they  would  have  been  but  for  the  lucky 
accident  of  one  of  the  soldiers  present  knowing  all  about 
them,  and  interfering  on  their  behalf. 

"  They  are  Englese,"  said  the  soldier,  "but  they  have 
been  assisting  us  against  the  assassins  that  have  escaped." 

And  so  Murray  and  Chivey  got  off. 

But  they  soon  got  tired  of  being  in  this  place, 
"stranded,"  as  Mr.  Chivey  elegantly  expressed  it,  "for 
want  of  the  dibs." 

The  master  complained,  and  the  man  found  the  means 
of  satisfying  him  with  money. 

Now  when  Chivey  produced  the  funds,  his  master  never 
dreamed  of  asking  him  how  the  money  was  obtained,  or 
where  it  came  from. 

But  he  was  destined  to  learn  a  very  unpleasant  truth 
about  this  at  a  most  unexpected  moment. 

"  This  isn't  half  a  bad  place,  Chivey,"  said  young 
Murray,  after  a  grand  dinner  they  had  just  regaled  them- 
selves with. 

"  Not  when  you've  got  the  tin,"  said  Chivey,  "and  lots 
of  it" 


256  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  Well,  we've  managed  pretty  well  as  far  as  that's  con- 
cerned," returned  young  Murray. 

"We!" 

"  Yes  ;  we,"  said  his  master.  "  Why,  you  must  have 
been  spending  some  of  your  own  wages  that  you  had 
saved  up." 

Chivey  turned  up  his  nose. 

'  Don't  talk  muck,"  he  said,  contemptuously. 

'  Chivey !  " 

'  Hallo  ! " 

'  Learn  to  know  your  place  better.  You  presume  upon 
my  good  nature,  and  if  you  don't  reform,  why " 

'  Well  ? " 

'  Why,  I  shall  have  to  send  you  about  your  business." 

Chivey  put  on  a  serious  air. 

"Yes.  You  might  send  me  away,"  he  said.  "You 
might,  I  will  say  that,  but  the  question  is,  should  I  go  ?  " 

Herbert  Murray  had  just  been  drinking  enough  to  get 
on  his  dignity  and  feel  outraged  at  this. 

"Chivey,  you'll  have  to  go,"  said  young  Murray, 
sternly,  "  and  the  sooner  the  better." 

"With  all  my  heart,"  responded  the  groom,  quite  cheer- 
fully. "Would  you  like  me  to  change  the  other  cheque 
first,  perhaps?" 

There  was  something  in  his  manner  which  made  his 
master  turn  round  at  this. 

"  Do  what  ?  " 

"  Change  the  other  cheque." 

"  What  cheque  ?" 

"  Why,  young  Jack  Harkaway's  cheque,  that  you 
forged. " 

Murray  turned  purple,  then  deadly  pale. 

Chivey  pretended  not  to  notice  it. 

"  Chivey,"  said  his  master,  after  awhile. 

"  What  is  it  now,  my  sweet  and  pleasant  ?  "  said  the 
groom,  insolently. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  stupid  speech  about 
forging  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  don't  call  that  so  stupid;  it's  only  the  literal 
truth." 

"  Don't  talk  rubbish,"  said  Murray. 

"  Well,"  said  the  tiger,  "I  ain't  what  you  can  call  a 
downright  university  scholard,  but  I'd  bet  a  good  lump 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER. 


257 


level  that  you  can  find  it  in  any  dictionary.  Forgery — to 
write  another  cove's  name." 

Herbert  Murray  had  been  flushed  and  excited  before, 
but  he  was  suddenly  as  sober  as  a  judge  now. 

"That  was  only  a  foolish  freak,  when  we  were  on 
board  ship  with  Harkaway,  Chivey,"  he  said;  "you 
know  that,  and  no  one  could  call  such  a  thing  as  that 
forgery. " 

"I  don't  know  that,"  returned  the  tiger,  coolly.  "It 
would  be  transportation  all  the  same  if  you  was  nabbed 
for  it" 

"  Don't  be  a  fool,  Chivey,"  said  Murray. 

"Look  here  now,  Murray,"  exclaimed  the  tiger,  "  I'm 
not  going  to  stand  your  cheek — do  you  hear  ?  I  ain't  go- 
ing to  stand  your  cheek,  so  don't  you  go  and  try  it  on." 

"Scoundrel!" 

"Drop  that,"  said  the  tiger,  wagging  his  forefinger 
warningly  at  his  master.  "Drop  that  talk;  I  ain't 
a-going  to  stand  it,  I  tell  you.  We  ain't  the  friends  we 
was,  Murray,  and  I  warn  you  that  if  you  ain't  more 
respectful,  I'm  just  likely  to  cut  up  rusty." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  meaning  of  these  words, 
there  was  no  further  concealment  between  them. 

When  young  Murray  made  an  egregious  ass  of  him- 
self, it  was  solely  the  result  of  his  silly  pride  and  vanity  in 
showing  Chivey  how  well  he  could  imitate  young  Jack's 
handwriting. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,  Chivey,  that  you  have  cashed 
one  of  those " 

"  Forged  cheques  ? " 

"Well,  yes,"  said  young  Murray,  gulping  it  down. 

"Of  course  I  did,"  returned  the  tiger;  "where  could 
we  have  got  the  money  to  live  upon  else  ?  I  watched 
Harkaway,  and  found  out  the  place  where  he  got  his 
cheques  cashed,  and  I  passed  the  one  you  forged. " 

"  You  are  a  fool,  Chivey." 

"Why?" 

"Because  the  utterer  of  a  forged  cheque  is  just  as 
guilty  as  the  forger." 

"Bosh!" 

"You  make  inquiries,"  said  Murray.  '"It  would  be 
for  life  with  you. " 

Chivey  did  not  like  this. 

'f 


258  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"  Don't  you  go  trying  to  drag  me  into  your  mess,  if 
you  please ;  don't  you  try  that  on,  Murray.  You  gave  me 
the  forged  cheque  to  get  cashed.  I  am  your  servant, 
just  bear  in  mind,  a  poor  ignorant  fellow,  without  no  edu- 
cation. All  I'd  got  to  do  was  to  go  and  get  the  coin  for 
your  forgery " 

"Hush  !  "  exclaimed  Murray,  with  an  uneasy  glance  at 
the  door. 

" Oh,"  cried  Chivey,  raising  his  voice,  "I  ain't  afraid 
for  any  body  to  hear  me  ;  I'm  as  hinnercent  as  a  unborn 
babe,  I  am.  Let  all  the  world  know  if  you  like. " 

Murray  winced. 

He  walked  up  and  down  the  room  thinking  the  job 
over,  while  Chivey,  lolling  back  in  an  easy-chair,  sur- 
veyed him  lazily  through  the  thick  fumes  rising  from  his 
cigar. 

"  I've  got  him  on  the  grand  hop  !  "  thought  the  tiger ; 
"he  won't  try  it  on  again  in  a  hurry." 

He  arose  languidly,  and  tossed  the  end  of  his  cigar  into 
the  fire. 

"I'm  going  for  a  stroll,  Murray,"  he  said,  pulling  up 
his  collar  ;  "I  shan't  be  long.  By  the  way,  just  pull  the 
bell,  and  order  coffee  for  me." 

"  Murray  bit  his  lips  in  silence. 

"  Didn't  you  hear  me,  Murray? "  said  Chivey, louder. 

"Yes." 

"  Then  why  the  deuce  don't  you  ring  the  bell !  " 

His  master  swallowed  this,  too,  and  rang. 

A  servant  came,  and  stood  waiting  his  orders. 

"Well,  Murray,"  said  the  tiger,  "why  don't  you 
order  ?  " 

'  Coffee  in  the  garden  for  one. " 
'Yes,  sir." 

'  No  ;  for  two,"  said  Chivey. 
'  I  don't  want  any,"  said  his  master. 
'  Oh,  yes,  you  do.     Coffee  for    two,"    said    Chivey. 
"That'll  do."' 

The  servant  bowed,  and  left  the  room. 

"Murray." 

"Well." 

"  Give  me  a  weed.     Yours  are  better  than  mine." 

His  master  lifted  up  his  arm  as  if  to  strike,  and  then 
threw  his  cigar  case  over  to  his  tiger. 


HIS  BO*   TINKER.  259 

"That's  rude,"  said  Chivey,  stooping  to  pick  it  up, 
' '  very  rude.  I'll  not  stand  that  sort  of  thing.  There's 
nothing  like  coming  to  an  understanding.  We  shall  be 
better  friends  for  it.  A  match  ;  do  you  hear  ?  Thanks. 
Follow  me  to  the  garden,  and  take  your  coffee.  Make 
haste  ;  I  don't  like  cold  coffee." 

And  he  lounged  out. 


CHAPTER  LIV. 

CHIVEY    HEARS   GOOD    NEWS — HIS     RESOLVES — HE     PUTS   ON   THE 

SCREW     AGAIN ' '  RULE  OF    THUMB  " THE  LONELY    WALK   TO 

THE         GRAVEL       PITS CHIVEY        TREADS      TOO         HARD THE 

WORM    TURNS    AND    STINGS    HIM SOMETHING  LIKE  MURDER. 

HERBERT  MURRAY  heard  the  retreating  footsteps  of  his 
servant  die  away  in  the  distance. 

Then  he  jumped  up,  and  paced  the  room  like  a  wild 
beast  in  a  cage. 

"  What  an  ass — what  an  idiot  have  I  been,"  he  ex- 
claimed, "to  be  caught  in  a  trap  by  such  a  paltry  scoun- 
drel !  My  father  warned  me  against  him  again  and 
again — a  low  cunning  thief !  But  I  must  keep  down  my 
rage  and  disgust.  I'll  show  him  no  mercy  when  I  get 
my  chance,  and  I  shall  get  it,  that  I  am  certain  of.  The 
sooner  the  better — the  sooner  the  better." 

He  shook  his  fist  at  the  room  door,  as  if  it  had  been 
offending  him,  when  there  came  a  knock. 

The  door  opened,  and  the  servant  who  had  answered 
the  bell  before  appeared  there. 

"You are  to  go  down  to  the  garden,  if  you  please,  to 
your  coffee,"  he  said. 

"I'll  come." 

"Very  good,  sir." 

Herbert  Murray  clasped  his  hands  in  a  feverish  manner} 
and  hurried  off  to  his  room. 

Here  he  locked  himself  in. 

Dropping  on  his  knees  before  his  portmanteau,  he 
routed  out  a  revolver  from  the  bottom  of  it. 

"  Loaded  in  every  chamber,"  he  said,  as  he  examined 
it  hastily.  "  It  may  be  useful.  Who  can  say  ? " 


260  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

H£  concealed  it  in  his  pocket,  and  walked  down  to  the 
garden,  where  he  found  Chivey  lounging  in  one  chair, 
with  his  feet  on  another,  while  he  lazily  sucked  at  his 
cigar. 

"At  last,"  he  said.  "You  have  taken  your  time  to 
think  about  coming." 

The  studied  insolence  of  his  manner  goaded  Murray  to 
fury. 

He  felt  inclined,  momentarily,  to  kick  over  the  traces, 
and  defy  his  impudent  servant. 

But  Herbert  Murray  was  too  great  a  coward  for  that. 

' '  Take  a  seat,"  said  Chivey,  slowly,  dragging  his  legs 
off  the  chair,  and  pushing  it  towards  Murray  with  a  lazy, 
languid  air. 

Herbert  Murray  sat  down  in  silence. 

"Come,  come,  Murray,"  said  Chivey,  "drink  your 
coffee.  I  can't  stand  no  sulks." 

"Very  good,"  responded  his  master. 

And  he  drank  the  coffee  as  he  was  bidden. 

Chivey 's  contempt  for  Herbert  Murray  increased  four- 
fold from  that  moment. 

"Just  order  some  chartreuse  for  me, "said  he,  sharply ; 
"do  you  hear?" 

As  he  raised  his  voice,  Murray  lost  patience. 

He  grew  rather  pale,  and  turning  to  his  servant,  said,  in 
a  tone  indicative  of  self-restraint — 

'  Be  careful,  Chivey,  be  careful,  I  tell  you." 

'  What  for  ?  " 

'  If  you  put  too  much  on  to  me,  I  may  thrash  you. " 

'  You  ? " 

'Yes.     Be  more  civil." 

'  As  for  thrashing,"  said  Chivey,  "  I  don't  know  that 
you  could.  I  don't  believe  you  would  ever  have  had 
enough  pluck  to  try  it  on,  if  you  thought  I  would 
stand  up  to  you.  I  have  stood  your  bullying  long 
enough.  I  worked  this  job  especially  to  get  you  under 
my  thumb.  You  may  as  well  know  it  now.  You 
dropped  into  the  trap  like  a  lambkin — well,  what  is  it 
now  ? " 

He  broke  off  because  Murray,  with  an  ejaculation  of 
disgust,  jumped  up  and  walked  out  of  the  garden. 

Chivey  burst  out  into  a  loud  and  boisterous  laugh. 

"But  where's  he  gone  to,  I  wonder?" 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  261 

He  did  not  feel  quite  at  ease  upon  this  score,  so  he  got 
up,  and  went  in  search  of  his  master. 

"The  gentleman  asked  the  way  to  the  gravel  pits," 
said  a  man,  at  the  door  of  the  hotel,  in  reply  to  Chivey's 
inquiries. 

"What  can  he  want  there?"  muttered  Chivey  to  him- 
self. 

He  would  go  and  see. 

He  did  not  like  the  idea  of  Herbert  Murray  being  too 
far  away,  so  he  was  just  starting  off  in  pursuit,  having 
first  inquired  his  way,  when  the  British  consul  came  up 
and  stopped  him. 

'  You  are  Mr.  Murray's  servant,  I  believe  ?  " 
'  Yes,  sir. " 
'  I  want  him." 
'  He's  out,  sir." 
'When  will  he  be  back?" 
'He'll  not  be  long,  sir." 

'  I  must  see  him  as  soon  as  he  comes.     I  have  some 
bad  news  for  him,  and  wish  to  break  it  gently." 
Chivey  pricked  up  his  ears  at  this. 
"Nothing  very  bad,  I  hope,  sir?" 
"Indeed  it  is." 

' '  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  what  it  is,  sir.  I  shouldn't 
like  my  poor  master  to  know  any  thing  very  bad  too 
suddenly. " 

The  consul  gave  Chivey  a  sharp  glance. 
'  Are  you  discreet  ?  " 
'Of course,  sir." 

'Well,  then,  your  master's  father  is  dead." 
•Dead?" 
'Yes." 

'  When  ?     How  did  you  know  it,  sir  ?  " 
'  He  went  down  in  the  '  Harpy '  on  his  way  hither  to 
join  his  son,  if  we  can  believe  the  papers." 

"How   dreadful,"   exclaimed  the   tiger,    looking  ine*>- 
pressibly  shocked.      "  I'll  go  and  seek  the  guv'nor,  sir." 
"But  be  careful,"  said  the  consul. 

No  sooner  was  Mr.  Chivey  out  of  sight  and  hearing  of 
the  consul,  than  he  executed  a  boisterous  double  shuffle 
to  a  mirthful  accompaniment  of  his  own. 

"The  old  boss  has  snuffed  it,  has  he  ? "  he  said  to  him- 
self. "We  must  be  worth  coin  now — a  bag  of  money. 


262  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

It  is  more  than  ever  this  child's  game  to  keep  a  tight  hand 
over  Herbert.  Now  for  him." 

He  made  his  way  with  all  despatch  to  the  gravel  pits  to 
which  he  had  been  directed,  and  here  surely  he  came 
upon  his  master,  Herbert  Murray. 

Orphan  Herbert. 

Remorseless  young  scoundrel  that  he  was,  Chivey 
never  thought  of  this  with  the  least  feeling  of  pity  for  his 
master. 

"I  must  keep  my  fist  on  him  hard,"  said  Chivey,  again 
and  again  ;  "rule  of  thumb  is  my  motter." 

He  walked  on  hurriedly,  for  he  felt  more  anxious  than 
ever  to  come  up  with  Herbert. 

A  barren,  desolate-looking  part  was  that  surrounding 
the  gravel  pits,  several  miles  from  any  signs  of  a  human 
dwelling. 

"This  is  the  sort  o'  place,"  said  the  tiger,  to  himself, 
"that  I  should  like  to  have  had  that  young  Jack  Harka- 
way  fellow — all  alone — no  witnesses,  and  his  hands  tied. 
Ah,  yes,  his  hands  tied  by  all  means.  I  never  see  such 
knuckles  as  that  beast  has  got.  They're  just  like  iron, 
and  they've  got  such  a  beastly  low  way  of  finding  out  a 
feller's  sore  spots.  I  should  like  to  give  him  toko  ;  and 
yet  I  could  almost  forgive  him  when  I  look  back  to  that 
awful  doing  which  he  gave  Herbert.  What's  that  ?  It's 
him." 

Yes,  there  was  his  master  sitting  upon  the  ground  by 
the  edge  of  one  of  the  deepest  of  the  gravel  pits,  peering 
down  into  its  depths  moodily. 

A  book  lay  open  at  his  side,  as  though  he  had  been 
reading  in  this  dreary  spot. 

Chivey  chuckled. 

"He's  got  a  royal  hump  on  him,"  said  the  tiger. 
"Took  a  dose  of  doleful.  I  hope  he  won't  go  and  com- 
mit susanside.  Oh,  no,"  he  added,  "he  ain't  got  the 
pluck." 

He  approached. 

"  Murray,"  said  Chivey,  in  his  coarsest  manner. 

Herbert  looked  up  at  the  sound  of  his  voice. 

"What  do  you  want  here,  Chivey  ?  "  he  said.  "I  don't 
wish  to  be  intruded  upon." 

Chivey  grinned. 

"  Do  you  hear  ?  "  continued  Murray. 


ffIS  BOY  TINKER.  263 

"Oh,  yes,  I  hear." 

*'  Then  leave  me." 

"Oh,  you  are  a  treat,  you  are,  and  no  error." 

"Do  you  hear  what  I  said?"  replied  Herbert.  "Go 
away. " 

"Come  now,  I  tell  you  what  it  is,  Murray.  I  ain't 
going  to  have  you  so  cheeky.  So  come,  jump  up." 

Herbert  Murray  bent  his  head  lower  yet. 

Chivey  could  not  see  the  strange  expression  of  his  face, 
or  he  would  not  have  pushed  matters  any  further. 

Herbert's  face  was  deathly  pale,  his  lips  were  blood- 
less. This  young  man  had  been  well  educated  and 
passed  his  boyhood  amongst  people  from  whom  he  had 
learnt  to  feel  occasionally  something  like  the  instincts  of 
a  gentleman. 

Evil  courses  and  dissipation  had  led  him  into  the  follies 
we  have  seen  him  commit. 

Chivey,  his  tiger,  was  more  than  any  one  responsible 
for  Herbert's  lapsing  into  such  evil  ways. 

How  a  youth  decently  brought  up  could  have  fallen 
into  the  error  of  making  an  associate  of  such  an  illiterate, 
ignorant  youth  as  this  Chivey,  is  not  easy  to  understand. 

"  Do  you  hear  me,  young  fellow  ? "  said  Chivey,  im- 
periously. 

Herbert  Murray  never  heeded  his  words. 

"Come,  I  say." 

And  there  the  tiger  made  the  mistake. 

He  ventured  so  far  as  to  give  his  master  a  gentle 
reminder  with  the  tip  of  his  boot. 

Murray  sprang  up  with  a  cry  like  that  of  a  savage 
beast  just  wounded,  and  he  fell  upon  his  insolent  servant. 

Chivey  gave  a  cry  of  alarm. 

He  would  have  fallen  back. 

But  too  late. 

Herbert  Murray  had  not  voice  for  words. 

Passion  choked  him. 

Holding  his  traitor  servant  with  one  hand,  he  ham- 
mered at  him  with  the  other,  until  his  strength,  and  not 
his  will,  failed  him. 

Then,  gathering  up  his  force  for  a  last  effort,  he  seized 
him  with  both  hands  and  hurled  the  unfortunate  tiger  from 
him  with  such  desperation  that  Chivey  fell  half  stunned 
and  bleeding  on  the  ground 


264  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"  Murder  !  "  he  cried  faintly,  "  murder,  help  ! " 

Herbert  whipped  out  a  revolver  from  his  breast-pocket 

"  It  isn't  murder  yet,  devil,"  he  hissed  at  him  between 
his  fast-set  teeth  ;  "  but  that's  coming  next." 

"  Help  !  " 

Herbert  cocked  the  revolver. 

' '  Mercy  !  "  cried  Chivey,  wildly  ;  ' '  oh,  sir,  do  have 
mercy. " 

His  master  laughed. 

"Oh,  sir,  do  have  mercy  on  a  poor  cove.  I  never  did 
you  no  harm.  I've  been  a  good  servant  to  you,  and  I 
will  be  again. " 

"No,  you'll  not,"  retorted  Herbert  Murray,  "never 
again." 

This  quiet  retort  made  Chivey  quake  from  top  to  toe. 

"  Mercy,"  he  gasped. 

"Take  that,"  said  Murray. 

He  thrust  out  his  pistol  and  pulled  the  trigger. 

Click.     But  no  report. 

He  was  wrong  when  he  had  pronounced  it  loaded  in 
every  chamber. 

One  was  empty,  and  this  was  the  very  one. 

"Confusion  !  "  he  exclaimed,  with  an  oath. 

He  cocked  it  again,  while  Chivey  was  up  and  creeping 
fearfully  backwards,  facing  his  foe. 

Herbert  Murray  followed  him  up  with  outstretched  hand. 

Unsuspectingly  Chivey  was  backing  on  the  brink  of 
the  deepest  gravel  pit. 

"Die,"  said  Herbert  Murray,  thrusting  the  revolver 
forward. 

"Hah!" 

The  tiger  scrambled  back. 

A  moment  more  and  he  was  over  the  precipice  and  had 
fallen  backwards  down  that  fearful  height. 

A  wild,  despairing  cry  he  gave  as  he  fell. 

Murray  drew  near. 

A  low,  hollow  groan  came  up  from  the  bottom  of  the 
pit. 

Then  all  was  still. 

Dead! 

"He's  gone,"  said  Herbert  Murray,  turning  deathly 
white;  "it  is  no  fault  of  mine.  He  brought  it  on  him 
self.  He's  dead,  and  I  am  free." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  265 


CHAPTER   LV. 

MOURNING    THE     ORPHAN — HIS     APPARITION CRUEL    HOAX — RE- 
TALIATION  HUNTING    FOR    RUNAWAY     SLAVES TARRING     AND 

FEATHERING MAMMOTH    BLACKBIRDS. 

WHILE  the  events  just  related  were  occurring  in  the 
obscure  Spanish  port,  Jack  Harkaway,  junior,  and  his 
friends  were  on  their  way  down  the  Mediterranean. 

A  lucky  escape  it  was  for  them,  one  and  all. 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  said  Jack,  upon  the  following  day, 
''that  we  have  missed  our  old  friend  the  orphan." 

"Poor  old  Figgins  !  "  returned  Harry  Girdwood  ;  "I 
should  have  liked  him  with  us  too." 

They  felt  the  want  of  some  sort  of  a  butt,  be  it  remarked, 
to  supply  the  place  of  genial  lying,  bragging,  affectionate, 
old  Isaac  Mole. 

Figgins,  the  self-styled  orphan,  just  rilled  this  place 
admirably,  with  one  or  two  characteristics  which  were 

new. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Now,  while  Jack  and  Harry  Girdwood  were  talking 
over  the  loss  of  poor  Figgins,  Tinker  and  Bogey  were 
seated  astride  the  hatchway  leading  to  the  fore-cabin. 

They  were  serious  as  judges,  and  Tinker  was  reading 
his  dependant  a  fine  moral  lesson,  when  suddenly  Bogey 
looked  over  the  stairs  and  stared  as  wildly  as  if  he  had 
seen  a  ghost. 

"Look  hyar,  Massa  Tinker,"  he  whispered. 

"Whar?" 

"  Down  dere." 

"Ugh — ugh — u — up!"  grinned  Tinker,  with  difficulty 
repressing  his  mirth,  "  hyar's  a  gollopshus,  cata wampus, 
thunderin'  great  larks,  ugh — up." 

"What  is  it,  Tinker  ?  "  demanded  young  Jack. 

"  Hush,  sar  ;  hold  your  blessed  tongue,  sar,  d'rec'ly  of 
sooner. " 

"Well !  "  said  his  master,  "that's  polite." 

"A  gemman's  coming  up,  sar.     Oh,  my  !  sich  larks." 


266  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

He  appeared  as  though  about  to  be  convulsed  again 
with  laughter,  and  rocked  about  so  upon  his  perch  that 
Jack  thought  every  minute  he  would  fall. 

"Oh,  sich  larks!"  repeated  the  black  lad.  "You 
nebber  guess  what." 

"  What  larks  do  you  mean  ? "  asked  Jack.  "  I  believe 
you  have  been  drinking,  you  rascal." 

Tinker  looked  supremely  offended. 

"No,  sar," 

"You  have." 

"Not  a  drop,  sar,"  protested  the  darkey. 

"  I've  half  a  mind  to  give  you  a  good  thrashing,"  con- 
tinued Jack. 

Tinker  slid  off  his  perch  sharply,  and  got  just  a  safe 
distance  away. 

•'Thrashin'  nebber  good,  sar,  allus  miserable  dam  bad, 
sar.  Only  good  for  Bogey." 

"No,  'tain't,"  said  the  person  most  nearly  concerned. 
"  Bewful  ting  for  my  s'perior  hossifer ;  berry  bad  ting  for 
Bogey." 

"  Quiet,  you  ugly  brack  nigger,"  said  Tinker.  "  Hyar 
comes  Massa  Orfin." 

Mr.  Figgins  came  slowly  and  unsuspectingly  up  the 
hatchway. 

He  was  not  thinking  of  any  thing  in  particular,  nor  did 
he  notice  either  the  black  boys'  or  our  hero,  young  Jack 
Harkaway,  who  was  standing  close  by  with  his  friend 
Harry  Girdwood. 

In  fact,  although  the  orphan  possessed  some  amount  of 
Cockney  shrewdness — he  must  have  had  some  wit  to 
have  been  a  successful  trader  in  London — he  was,  just  at 
that  moment,  in  a  state  of  mental  abstraction,  very  favour- 
able to  the  perpetration  of  a  practical  joke. 

Half  a  dozen  more  steps,  and  he  was  at  the  top  of  the 
companion  ladder. 

As  Mr.  Figgins  stepped  on  to  the  deck,  the  two 
mischievous  niggers  seized  the  tremulous  orphan  in  the 
rear. 

"We  arretht  you,  sar,"  exclaimed  Tinker.  "We  am 
all  pirates,  and  you  must  walk  de  bressed  plank  or  be 
strung  up." 

They  seized  him  by  his  garments,  and  £hrew  him  on 
his  hands  and  knees. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  267 

He  roared  loudly. 

' '  Murder  !  "  cried  Mr.  Figgins  ;  ' '  help  !     I'm  done  for  !  " 

"  What  are  you  doing  with  Mr.  Figgins?"  exclaimed 
the  captain. 

The  others  tried  to  tip  him  the  wink. 

But  the  captain  was  not  very  much  alive  to  fun,  and  he 
failed  to  see  what  it  meant. 

Mr.  Figgins,  on  hearing  a  friendly  voice,  looked  up. 

And  then  he  learnt  that  instead  of  being  surrounded 
by  pirates,  it  was  only  the  mischievous  Tinker  and  Bogey 
larking. 

Jack  was  standing  close  by,  and  with  him  was  Harry 
Girdwood,  grinning  all  over  their  faces. 

The  orphan  disliked  ridicule  greatly. 

He  changed  colour  and  looked  rather  sheepish,  and 
then  he  got  up  a  faint  grin,  as  if  to  join  in  the  fun. 

"  I'll  take  it  out  of  those  two  young  devils,"  he  said  to 
himself,  as  he  sneaked  off  to  his  cabin.  "Only  let  me 
get  half  a  chance,  and  I'll  worry  them." 

He  kept  his  word. 

*  *  *  #  #  if. 

They  had  been  through  the  Straits  of  Gibraltar  some 
time,  and  were  sailing  lazily  along  the  Mediterranean, 
when  one  day  they  were  becalmed  off  the  coast  of  Tunis. 

While  there  a  sudden  disturbance  arose  on  shore, 
and  it  became  known  on  board  that  a  number  of  slaves 
had  escaped,  thanks  to  the  common  sense  of  a  few 
English  residents  there. 

Boats  were  put  off,  and  a  search  ordered  on  board  the 
ships  riding  at  anchor  along  the  coast,  for  those  slaves 
were  the  property  of  the  Bey  of  Tunis  himself,  and  his 
highness  was  not  the  sort  of  man  to  tamely  submit  to  a 
loss. 

Tinker  heard  the  matter  discussed,  and  he  naturally 
enough  for  a  gentleman  of  colour,  took  a  very  lively 
interest  in  it. 

The  orphan  Figgins  was  there  to  communicate  with 
them. 

"Well,  Bogey,"  said  he,  wishing  to  have  some  fun 
with  them,  "if  they  do  send  on  board  here  to  search  for 
their  slaves,  they  are  very  likely  to  insist  upon  taking 
you  or  Tinker." 

The  latter  pricked  up  his  ears. 


2  68  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"Not  exactly,"  said  Tinker. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Mr.  Figgins,  seriously  ;  "we 
mustn't  be  too  sure." 

"Dey  couldn't  take  dis  chile." 

"  It  is  not  a  question  of  that,  Tinker,"  said  Mr.  Figgins ; 
"  as  for  their  power  to  take  you,  there  isn't  much  doubt 
about  that.  The  only  thing  is,  would  they  be  merciful  ? 
I  am  inclined  to  think  not" 

"What?" 

"  Dey  can't  take  me,"  said  Bogey,  looking  very  fright- 
ened. "  I'se  not  one  ob  dere  niggars. " 

' '  That  doesn't  matter  ;  all  niggers  are  alike — all  black 
cattle." 

Tinker  shot  at  the  speaker  an  indignant  glance. 

"I'll gib  you  black  cattle,"  said  he  to  himself. 

"The  fact  is,  Bogey,"  said  the  orphan,  "  I  don't  want 
them  to  come  here  and  get  hold  of  you,  for  if  the  captain 
did  give  you  up " 

"He  wouldn't." 

"Oh,  yes,  he  would." 

"Nebbah!" 

"  You're  wrong  there.     He'd  sooner  give  you  up  than 

?et  into  any  mess  with  the  big-wigs  here,  and  if  he  does 
shall  miss  my  retaliation. " 

"Your  what,  sir?" 

"Tallyashun,"  said  Bogey.  "What  the  debil  dat, 
sar  ? " 

"My  chance  of  paying  you  out  for  the  tricks  you  have 
played  off  on  me." 

"Yah,  yah!"  guffawed  the  two  of  them  in  chorus. 
' '  We  have  larks  wid  you  and  hab  more  yet " 

<' Very  funny, "  said  the  orphan,  with  a  vicious  look. 
"Well,  I  mean  to  tar  and  feather  you  for  your  larks." 

Tinker  pretended  to  look  very  frightened,  and  Bogey, 
taking  the  cue  from  his  master,  made  an  extravagant 
show  of  shaking  at  the  knees. 

"Oh,  Massa  Figgins,  you  so  big  and  strong  sar — an' 
so  berry  fine  man,  sar.  You  no  hurt  de  poor  niggar, 
sar?" 

"You'll  see,"  said  Mr.  Figgins  ;  and  he  walked  away. 

He  went  below,  and  bribed  two  of  the  sailors  for  some 

purpose  or  another,  which  only  transpired  later  on. 
*  *  *  *  *  * 


fflS  BOY  TINKER.  269 

One  of  the  crew  came  running  up  to  where  Tinker  and 
Bogey  stood  by  the  cook's  galley,  chatting  with  him  and 
sniffing  the  steam  that  arose  from  a  savoury  stew. 

' ' Tinker,"  cried  the  sailor,  " you've  only  got  time." 

"What  for?'" 

"Just  bare  time  ;  for  they'll  be  on  deck  soon." 

"Who?" 

' '  And  as  for  trying  to  put  them  off,  why,  it's  no  more 
use  than  nothing.  Nat  Cringle  says  that  the  skipper's 
sure  to  give  you  up,  the  pair  of  you.  He  daren't  refuse. 
Of  course  they'd  do  justice  to  your  memory.  But  before 
they  could  find  out  as  you  weren't  theirs,  you'd  be  bow- 
strung,  or  something  of  that  kind." 

Tinker  looked  utterly  dismayed  as  the  sailor  went  on, 
and  as  for  Bogey,  he  was  ready  to  give  way  now  at  the 
knees,  much  as  he  had  shammed  to  do  before  Mr. 
Figgins. 

Just  at  this  moment  Mr.  Figgins  came  up  hurriedly, 
and  seemingly  in  a  state  of  considerable  alarm. 

"Oh,  my  poor  fellows,"  he  exclaimed,  in  a  state  of 
great  alarm  apparently  ;  "  here  they  come." 

' '  Who  ?  "  cried  Tinker. 

' '  Where  ?  "  said  Bogey. 

"Is  dey  many?" 

"Twenty  men,  armed  to  the  teeth,  to  capture  run- 
away slaves,"  returned  Mr.  Figgins. 

"Oh,  golly!" 

"All  with  scimitars,  big  enough  to  cleave  an  elephant 
in  two. " 

"  Oh,  Jerusalem  ! "  gasped  Tinker  ;  "how  offul." 

"Drefful,"  ejaculated  Bogey ;   "beastly  offul,  drefful." 

"What  shall  we  do?" 

"There  is  nothing  for  it,"  returned  Mr.  Figgins. 

"Only  to  die  or  go  into  slavery,"  added  one  of  the 
sailors. 

"  Mussy  on  us  !  "  cried  Tinker. 

"Oh,  Massa  Figgins,  do  save  a  poor  miserable  cove, 
an'  I'll  bress  you.     Oh,  do,  sar,  I'll  nebar  hab  no  larks 
ag'in  wid  you,  sar  ;  s'elp  me  golly,  sar. " 
"You  promise,  Tinker?"  said  Mr.  Figgins. 
"Oh,  yes,  sar." 
"Swear,  then." 
"I  don't  like  to,  sar." 


270  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

"Swear,  I  tell  you.  Do  you  know  what  an  oath 
is?" 

'Yes,  sar." 

'Then  swear." 

'If  I  must,  sar." 

'Certainly  you  must ;  I  insist  upon  it." 

'Well,  den,   you'se  a  dam  tief,  a    ugly  old    orphan, 

blarm  yah ;  you,  you " 

"Stop,  stop,"  cried  Mr.  Fig-gins;   "that's  not  the  sort 
of  swearing  I  mean.     I  want  you  to  take  an  oath  that 
you  will  never  again  behave  so  disgracefully  to  me." 
'I  swear  dat,  sar." 

'  Good  ;  then  I'll  try  and  save  you,  Tinker." 
'  An'  me,  sar  ?  " 
'And  you,  too,  Bogey." 

'  Bress  your  'art,  Massa  Figgins  ;  you'se  a  good  sort. " 
'  I  hope  so.     Now  down  with  you  below.     Go  with 
him,"  he  added,  pointing  to  the  sailor,    "while   I   stop 
here  and  put  them  off  if  they  insist  upon  going  below." 
Off  went  the  two  darkeys  with  the  sailor. 
After  a  few  moments  the  orphan  went  after  them,  and 
getting  to  the  hatchway,  he  shuffled  about  a  good  deal, 
and  made  a  rare  lumbering  noise  with  his  feet,  so  as  to 
make  it  sound  as  though  there  were  a  whole  host  of  peo- 
ple moving  about. 

Then  he  ran  nimbly  down  the  companion  ladder  into 
the  cabin,  where  Tinker  and  Bogey  shivered  up  in  a 
corner,  hiding  behind  two  big  barrels. 

' '  Look  out, "  exclaimed  Mr.   Figgins,   in  a   whisper ; 
"  they  are  coming." 
"Who?" 

' '  The  Tunisians,  in  search  of  their  slaves,  who  have 
escaped. " 
"Golly  1" 

"  Dey  ain't  gwine  to  come  down  hyar  ?"  said  Bogey, 
anxiously. 

"Yes  ;  hark  !     Here  they  come." 

"Oh,  golly,  Massa  Figgins,"  cried  Tinker.  "  I'se  a 
dead  un.  Do  go  fetch  Massa  Harkaway. " 

"I  have  no  time  to  find  him.  Where  can  I  put  you ? " 
said  Mr.  Figgins,  looking  about  him  for  a  hiding-place. 
' '  Why,  here  you  are ;  creep  into  this  barrel,  both  of  you. 
In  you  go." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER. 


27l 


Tinker  obeyed  with  the  greatest  alacrity. 

He  was  closely  followed  by  his  man  Bogey. 

But  before  Tinker  had  got  to  the  full  length,  there  came 
a  cry  from  the  barrel  that  would  certainly  have  betrayed 
them  had  the  search-party  from  land  been  near  at  hand. 

"What  is  it?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Figgins.  "You'll  ruin 
all." 

' '  Dere's  suffin  all  wet  and  sticky  inside  dat   bressed 
barrel,"  said  Tinker. 
'  Sticky  ?  " 
'  Yes  ;  orful. " 
1  What  is  it  ? " 

' Dunno,  sir;  smell  like  tar." 

'How  unfortunate,"  said  the  orphan,  with  a  sly  look 
at  the  sailor,  who  stood  beside  him.  "Out  with  you, 
creep  into  the  next.  Quick,  for  your  life. " 

"  I'm  in." 

"So's  me." 

They  scrambled  in  on  all  fours,  and  Mr.  Figgins 
clapped  on  the  head  of  the  cask. 

But  even  this  did  not  appear  to  satisfy  them,  for 
Tinker's  voice  was  heard  in  loud  complaint. 

"What  is  it  now?  "  said  Mr.  Figgins. 

"  Dis  barrel  is  chock  full  ob  feathers,  sar." 

"Well  they  can't  hurt  you." 

"  No  ;  but  dey's  sticking  to  us  'ca'se  ob  dat  oder  muck 
— de  tar." 

"  Well  what  of  that  ?     Hush!     I  hear  them  coming." 

Surely  enough,  the  heavy  tramp  of  footsteps  was  heard 
on  deck. 

Then  down  the  companion  ladder  three  or  four  sailors 
came,  led  by  Nat  Cringle. 

They  kicked  up  a  rare  hullabaloo,  and  one  of  them 
snapped  a  pistol. 

Then  they  seized  hold  of  the  barrel  in  which  the  two 
niggers  were  concealed,  and  gave  it  a  roll  backwards  and 
forwards,  after  which  they  departed. 

"Now,"  ejaculated  Mr.  Figgins,  knocking  off  the  lid, 
"now's  your  time.  Fly,  for  your  lives. " 

Tinker  scrambled  out  and  got  up  the  companion  ladder 
somehow,  dosely  followed  by  Bogey. 

Having  very  little  clothing  on,  they  were  covered  with 
feathers  from  head  to  foot. 


272  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

The  first  barrel  had  been  carefully  coated  with  tar,  so 
that  turn,  which  way  they  would,  they  could  not  escape  it. 

The  second  barrel  contained  the  feathers  of  a  dozen 
fowls  and  ducks,  and  these  stuck  to  our  dusky  practical 
jokers  in  a  way  they  had  never  counted  upon. 

On  reaching  the  deck,  they  found  themselves  faced  by 
nearly  the  whole  of  the  passengers  and  crew,  and  they 
were  greeted  with  a  perfect  storm  of  laughter. 

They  saw  that  they  had  been  the  victims  of  a  hoax,  and 
they  turned  to  retreat. 

But,  alack,  the  ladder  was  blocked  by  Mr.  Figgins,  Nat 
Cringle,  and  the  rest  of  the  sailors  who  had  participated 
in  the  fun. 

"Whatever  are  these  funny-looking  objects?"  said 
Harry  Girdwood,  coming  on  deck  with  young  Jack. 

"New specimens.  Mammoth  blackbirds,"  cried  Jack, 
laughing  at  Bogey  and  his  boy  Tinker  as  they  ran  about, 
not  knowing  where  to  hide  themselves. 


CHAPTER    LVI. 

HOW   TINKER   DISTINGUISHED    HIMSELF AN    ALARM — THE  SHARK 

TINKER  DOES  A  DEED  OF  DARING. 

TINKER  looked  quite  crestfallen. 

"We  look  like  birds  moulting;  but  keep  up  your 
pecker,  massa,"  whispered  Bogey. 

"  Whatever  have  you  been  up  to  ?  "  asked  Jack. 

"I'll  tell  you,"  said  the  orphan,  beaming  with  satisfac- 
tion at  the  success  of  his  exploit.  "  They  were  in  a 
dreadful  fright  of  being  taken  away  by  the  Tunis  people, 
who  were  hunting  after  the  runaway  slaves,  and  so  they 
disguised  themselves  as  a  pair  of  geese." 

' '  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

"You  laugh,  Massa  Jack,  "said  Bogey,  ruefully.  "You 
no  like  for  to  be  in  such  a  Dressed  pickle  yourself." 

This  made  them  laugh  more  boisterously  than  ever. 

"Stop  a  bit,"  said  Harry  Girdwood.  "  Here's  a  riddle 
for  you." 

"Out  with  it" 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  2 7 ^ 

"Why  are  Tinker  and  Bogey  like  the  champions  of  the 
Thames  and  Tyne?  " 

"  Because  they  handle  their  skulls  so  well,"  said  Jack, 
promptly. 

This  was  greeted  with  a  perfect  yell  of  laughter,  as 
Tinker  and  Bogey  were  scratching  furiously  at  their 
woolly  heads. 

"No,"  said  Harry;  "it's  because  they  feather  so 
beautifully." 

"Ha,  ha,  ha!" 

Mr.  Figgins  laughed  louder  than  all  the  rest  together. 

Bogey,  who  was  very  sensitive  to  ridicule,  made  a  des- 
perate effort  to  get  down  below  again. 

But  this  the  assembled  company  would  not  allow. 

He  tore  ferociously  at  his  itching  skin. 

"Oh,  golly  !"  he  cried  out  in  despair,  "what  shall  I 
do  to  get  off  dese  bressed  feathers  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you  how,  Sambo,"  said  one  of  the  sailors. 

Bogey  turned  eagerly  to  the  speaker. 

"How?" 

"  Go  to  the  cook's  galley,  and  get  him  to  pluck  you  in 
the  regular  way  " 

"Ha,  ha,  ha  !  " 

"I'll  tell  you  another  way,"  said  Nat  Cringle. 

"Out  with  it." 

"  Let's  draw  up  two  lines,  and  give  them  a  fair  run 
down  the  middle  while  we  souse  'em  with  water." 

The  orphan  was  standing  very  close  to  Tinker  enjoying 
the  fun.  Tinker  saw  him,  and  at  once  made  a  rush, 
clutching  him  round  the  waist. 

"  I's  got  yar,  Massa  Orphan,"  he  said  ;  "now,  I  gibe 
you  some  of  my  tar  and  feathers — make  you  look  like  old 
goose. " 

And  Tinker  began  to  rub  himself  against  the  orphan. 

The  next  moment  they  rolled  over  and  over  together  on 
the  deck,  the  orphan  each  time  getting  plenty  of  Tinker's 
tar  and  feathers,  and  each  time  screaming  loudly  for 
help. 

At  last  Jack,  amidst  much  laughter,  managed  to  pull 
Tinker  off. 

Tinker  then  gave  a  sharp  look  about  him,  meaning  to 
ir.ake  a  run  for  it. 

But  there  was  no  escape. 
18 


2/4  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

They  were  too  well  encompassed  to  get  off. 

In  almost  less  time  than  it  takes  to  tell  the  tale,  buckets 
Were  brought  and  passed  round. 

Then  there  was  an  opening  made  in  their  ranks,  and 
Tinker  made  a  sudden  rush. 

He  was  not  quick  enough,  however. 

Two  of  the  buckets  were  emptied  over  him  as  he  flew, 
and  Bogey  got  the  contents  of  three  more  as  he  followed 
his  master. 

"Reserve  the  rest  till  they  come  back,"  said  Jack. 

But  they  did  not  come  back. 

Tinker  made  one  desperate  rush  to  the  first  vacant 
space  at  the  ship's  side,  and  without  more  ado,  sprang  up 
on  the  bulwarks. 

' '  Dis  de  way  I'se  gwine  to  wash  dem  dam  fedders 
off !  "  he  shouted. 

And  overboard  he  leaped. 

A  cry  of  alarm  was  raised. 

But  before  a  second  cry  could  be  uttered,  Bogey  was 
after  him. 

In  an  instant  the  adventure  was  robbed  of  its  comic 
aspect. 

Alarm  was  depicted  upon  every  countenance. 

The  cry  was  raised — 

"  Man  overboard! " 

"Lower  boats." 

"Aye,  aye,  sir." 

Old  Nat  Cringle  and  another  well-disciplined  man — old 
salts  who  had  served  in  the  Royal  Navy — set  to  work 
promptly  and  methodically,  without  any  of  that  wild 
hurry-scurry  which  defeats  itself. 

Two  boats  were  very  promptly  lowered. 

' '  There's  no  danger  for  Tinker, "  said  Jack.  ' '  He  swims 
like  any  fish  in  the  sea." 

"And  as  for  Bogey,  he  could  live  for  a  week  in  the 
water,"  added  Harry. 

Everybody  had  rushed  over  to  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
and  all  eyes  were  straining  eagerly  after  the  two  negro 
boys. 

But  no  signs  of  them  were  visible  at  present. 

"They  don't  seem  to  come  up  very  quickly,"  said  Jack* 
anxiously. 

Mr.  Figgins  was  precious  ill  at  ease  now. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER. 


27S 


This  desperate  conclusion  to  the  fun  quite  spoilt  the 
joke,  and  he  would  have  given  something  never  to  have 
had  a  hand  in  it. 

"Dear,  dear!  "  he  exclaimed,  "I  hope  no  harm  will 
come  to  the  poor  boys." 

His  distress  of  mind  was  so  genuine  that  Jack  Harka- 
way  took  pity  upon  him,  and  did  his  best  to  reassure 
him. 

"They  had  a  good  deep  dive,"  said  he.  "  It's  no  joke 
— a  jump  from  the  side  here.  But  I'll  wager  that  they  are 
only  taking  a  second  dive,  just  to  frighten  us." 

But  now  the  boats  were  lowered,  Nat  Cringle  and  an- 
other sailor  in  one,  and  three  sailors  in  the  other. 

They  pulled  away  from  the  ship  some  little  distance, 
until  a  welcome  cry  came  from  one  of  the  boats — 
'  There  they  are  !  " 
'Where?"' 

'  Out  yonder,  ever  so  far." 
'  I  see  them,"  cried  Jack. 

'Tinker  ahoy!"  shouted  Nat  Cringle.     "Bogey,  you 
waggybone,  come  back." 

"  Tinker !  " 

Tinker  was  seen  swimming  lazily  along  with  one  hand» 
whilst  with  the  other  he  was  busily  engaged  upon  his 
feathers,  which  stuck  to  him  with  remarkable  perti- 
nacity. 

"Tinker." 

Tinker  was  within  hearing  now. 

"I'se  comin',"  he  answered,  "when  dese  bressed 
fedders  all  off." 

It  was  a  curious  sight  to  watch  the  antics  of  the  sable 
pair  in  the  water. 

They  both  could  do  just  as  they  liked  in  it,  and  the  way 
they  paddled  round  each  other,  and  trod  the  water  with 
their  feet  while  they  picked  the  feathers  off  each  other's 
carcase,  was  a  regular  side-splitting  sight. 

Suddenly  a  cry  was  raised  which  sent  a  thrill  of  terror 
through  every  frame. 

"Sharks  !" 

"Drop  that,  Small,"  cried  Jack  Harkaway  ;  "that's  no 
joke. " 

"  That  it  ain't,  sir,"  replied  the  sailor,  "but  a  bora  fact  j 
look  there." 


376  YO  UNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

Jack  followed  the  direction  in  which  the  sailor  pointed, 
and  then  he  perceived  a  huge  white  shark  playing  about 
under  the  ship's  counter. 

"Shark  !  "  shouted  Jack,  with  all  his  force. 

"Den  be  golly,  Massa  Harkaway,"  replied  Tinker, 
"  you  tar  and  fedder  him." 

"Into  the  boat  with  you!"  yelled  Jack,  wildly ; 
' '  sharks,  I  say. " 

Every  instant  he  expected  to  see  the  monster  turn  and 
dart  in  the  direction  of  the  unhappy  negroes.  But 
strangely  enough  the  shark  did  not  appear  to  notice 
them. 

As  soon  as  the  word  "shark"  was  spoken,  a  Yankee 
sailor  named  Biles,  bolted  down  below  and  reappeared 
laden  with  a  strong  chain  and  hook,  upon  which  was  fixed 
a  huge  morsel  of  fat  pork. 

Besides  this,  he  carried  two  other  pieces  of  meat. 

The  pork  bait  struck  the  water. 

Then  the  Yankee  sailor  threw  over  one  of  his  pieces  of 
loose  bait,  a  little  nearer  to  where  the  shark  was  swim- 
ming about. 

The  monster  of  the  deep  struck  after  it  as  it  sank,  and 
snapped  it  up. 

Then  he  shot  out  after  the  next  piece,  and  Biles  gave  a 
sudden  tug  at  the  line  he  had  affixed  to  the  chain. 

"  Hooked  him,"  exclaimed  Biles  ;   "  hurrah  !  " 

The  interest  now  was  clean  gone  from  Tinker  and  Bogey, 
who  were  safe,  and  centred  in  the  white  shark,  who  had 
just  swallowed  Mr.  Biles's  bait  in  the  mildest  and  most 
tt^duspectin^f  manner  imaginable. 

Now,  as  ^oon  as  the  shark  felt  the  hook,  he  made  a 
desperate  plunge  to  get  free,  and  had  not  the  line  been  a 
precious  stout  one,  it  would  never  have  stood  the  shock. 

As  it  was,  however,  it  held  out  bravely. 

Biles  played  with  him  a  bit,  and  let  him  run  out  a  good 
distance. 

Then  he  tightened  his  rope,  and  began  to  haul  in. 

Mr.  Shark  objected,  but  the  Yankee  would  not  be 
denied. 

"  He's  getting  bad,"  said  one  of  the  bystanders;  "I 
wouldn't  like  to  be  near  him  now." 

Tinker,  it  would  seem,  entertained  quite  a  different 
opinion,  as  we  shall  see. 


&IS  BOY  TINKER.  2ft 

As  soon  as  he  got  alongside,  he  scrambled  up  on  deck 
like  a  monkey  and  ran  off  down  below. 

"There  goes  Tinker,"  laughed  Jack. 

In  the  space  of  a  few  minutes,  back  came  Tinker,  carry* 
ing  a  freshly-ground  cutlass. 

Jack  saw  him,  and  stepped  forward  in  some  alarm. 

What  could  he  mean  ? 

Was  he  about  to  wreak  vengeance  upon  Mr.  Figgins  ? 

He  feared  so. 

"  Now,  sir,  what  is  this  for?"  asked  Jack,  sternly. 

" Tse  gwine  to  take  a  walk  wid  Massa  Shark." 

Tinker  then  sprang  up  on  to  the  bulwark,  and  waved 
his  cutlass  as  he  called  out  very  loudly  to  the  orphan — 

"Now,  Massa  Figbox,  I'se  gwine  to  show  you  how  to 
carve  up  shark  for  table.  If  you  got  de  pluck,  jist  you 
come  and  tar  and  fedder  him." 

Then  with  a  wild,  derisive  laugh,  and  before  anyone 
could  interfere  to  stop  him  in  his  mad  freak,  over  he 
plunged  again  sword  in  hand. 

The  water  was  clear  and  translucid,  and  they  could  see 
fathoms  down. 

But  Tinker  went  clear  out  of  sight. 

They  watched  eagerly  for  his  reappearance,  but  a 
sudden  and  violent  plunge  of  the  shark  drew  off  their 
attention. 

"Look  out,"  cried  Biles. 

Just  then  the  shark  shook  all  over  again  as  if  suddenly 
palsied,  and  the  water  was  dyed  red  all  round  him. 

Then  Tinker  suddenly  shot  up  to  the  surface  upon  the 
other  side  of  the  shark,  swimming  with  his  left  arm, 
while  in  his  right  hand  he  waved  the  cutlass  dripping  with 
blood. 

He  had  contrived  to  keep  under  long  enough  to  plunge 
the  cutlass  thrice  into  the  monster's  belly. 

The  third  time  up  to  the  hilt  it  went,  and  Tinker  had  a 
bath  of  blood. 

The  shark  had  had  enough. 

It  rolled  over,  and  then  lay  flat  and  motionless  upon 
the  water. 

Tinker  had  done  for  him. 

4 '  Bravo,  Tinker !  " 

A  dozen  voices  caught  up  the  cry,  and  Jack's  brave  boy 
Tinker  became  the  hero  of  the  hour. 


278  YOUNG  JACK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 


CHAPTER  LVII. 

NEWS    FROM     HOME — STRANGE     TIDINGS — ROBBERY "AYE,    AND 

FORGERY,  TOO  !  " — PRECAUTIONS — ON  AGAIN — THE  TURKISH 
PORT — DARE-DEVIL  JACK — A  PROMISE  OF  ADVENTURE  ONCE 
MORE. 

A  RIGHT  pleasant  cruise  they  had,  and  we  would  fain 
linger  with  them  as  they  pursue  their  way  up  the  sunny 
Mediterranean.  But  we  must  bear  in  mind  how  great  is 
the  work  before  us,  and  how  small  is  the  space  remain- 
ing at  our  disposal,  and  resist  temptation. 

Let  us  push  on,  then. 

Malta  was  the  most  important  station  on  their  way, 
and  this  was  because  sundry  passengers  were  expecting 
letters  there  from  home. 

Amongst  the  number  was  Jack  Harkaway. 

Letters  from  home  ! 

Welcome,  indeed,  were  they  to  everyone  on  board. 

And  they  who  hoped  for  some  sign  from  those  they  had 
left  behind,  and  found  not  a  line,  were  naturally  sadly 
crestfallen  and  disappointed. 

Any  but  the  veriest  egotist  might  surely  think  of  those 
that  are  far  away. 

A  few  short  lines,  however  hastily  written,  may  send  a 
thrill  of  joy  through  the  heart  of  the  absent  one. 

It  is  cruel,  then,  to  neglect  such  a  duty  under  the  plea 
that  you  "are  such  a  bad  correspondent,"  or  that  you 
"detest  writing  letters." 

The  worst  pretext  of  all  is,  perhaps,  the  one  which  is 
the  most  frequently  made — "  I  haven't  had  time." 

The  very  slowest  of  slow  correspondents  can  find  time 
to  idle  away  some  scattered  moments  of  his  or  her 
busiest  day. 

Never  mind  if  your  orthography  is  weak  enough  to 
Cause  you  to  run  a  muck  at  a  ';bee. " 

No  matter  if  your  pothooks  and  hangers  are  execrable.. 

Send  the  absent  and  expectant  ones  a  scrawl. 

Let  them  be  able  to  decipher  ,no  more  than  the  bare 


HIS  BOY  TINKER. 


279 


address,  it  will  cause  them  a  feeling  of  pleasure,  be  as- 
sured. 

Well,  Jack  Harkaway  and  his  friends  were  among  the 
lucky  ones. 

There  were  letters  for  Jack  and  for  Harry  Girdwood. 

Jack's  first. 

His  will  tell  a  tale  for  itself  which  should  not  be  with- 
out a  certain  interest  for  the  faithful  who  have  followed 
his  fortunes  up  to  the  present. 

Jack  comfortably  seated  himself,  broke  the  seal,  and 
began  to  read  the  letter  from  home. 

And  this  is  the  letter  which  old  Jack  Harkaway  had 
written  to  his  hopeful  son. 

"  MY  OWN  DEAR  JACK, — Since  receiving  your  first  letter,  I 
have  written  to  you  twice.  Your  dear  mother  has  likewise, 
and  although  we  have  heard  from  you  twice,  your  letters 
contain  no  acknowledgment  of  ours.  What  does  this 
mean  ?  Can  our  letters  have  miscarried  ?  We  fear  so. 
Need  I  go  over  the  old  ground,  my  dear  boy  ?  Need  I  say 
how  wild  with  joy  we  were  to  receive  your  first  letter,  and  to 
learn  that  you  had  escaped  the  peril  which  the  deliberate 
villany  of  old  Murray  had  placed  you  in  ?  This  is  the 
fourth  letter  to  you. 

"Now  it  is  very  remarkable  that  you  should  not  reply, 
because  my  letters  both  alluded  to  a  matter  which  should 
certainly  have  claimed  your  attention.  I  alluded  to  your 
extravagance.  This,  my  dear  boy,  is  a  new  weakness, 
and  one  which  should  be  nipped  in  the  bud.  When  you 
draw  cheques  for  four  hundred  pounds  at  once,  it  is  high 
time  to  reflect  upon  what  is  going  forward,  upon  how  far 
you  may  be  allowing  yourself  to  be  led  away  by  persons 
who  are  either  thoughtless  or  unscrupulous.  And  I  cer- 
tainly feel  it  my  duty  to  mention  the  fact,  as  habits  of 
extravagant  expenditure  are  likely  to  grow  upon  one,  and 
at  some  time  or  other  there  comes,  however  great  your 
fortune,  an  imperative  necessity  to  put  on  the  skid  and 
pull  up  ;  this  would  be  attended  with  painful  feelings  of 
self-sacrifice.  I  hope  that  an  early  date  will  bring  on  an 
acknowledgment  of  this  letter,  and  the  assurance  that  both 
yourself  and  Harry  are  well  and  happy  and  not  too  wild. 

"Your  affectionate  father, 
"J.  H." 


2&0  YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WA  Y  AND 

Jack  was  astounded.     What  could  it  mean  ? 

He  ran  away  after  Harry  Girdwood  as  fast  as  his  legs 
would  take  him. 

Harry  had  received  letters,  too,  from  England. 

One  of  these  was  in  a  lady's  handwriting,  and  he  was 
eagerly  reading  it  when  his  friend  exclaimed — 

"Harry." 

"What  is  it,  Jack?" 

"Read  that." 

He  placed  his  father's  letter  in  Harry's  hands. 

Harry  read  it  down,  but  on  coming  to  the  four-hundred- 
pounds  question,  Jack  s  comrade  was  surprised. 

"  What  does  that  mean,  Harry  ?" 

Harry  pondered  a  long  while  over  this  before  he  spoke. 
'  There  is  but  one  explanation  possible,"  said  Harry. 
'  And  that  is  ?  " 
'Villany.     Forgery." 

'Good  Heaven,  Harry!  "  exclaimed  Jack,  "  it  is  im- 
possible. " 

'  What  other  explanation  can  you  give  me  ?  " 
'None." 

'Now,  Jack,"  said  Harry,  presently,  "let  us  be  practi- 
cal.    How  could  any  stranger  draw  upon  your  credit  ?  " 

"Only  with  my  cheques,"  replied  Jack;  "but  the 
honest  truth  is  that  I  have  never  examined  my  cheque- 
book for  some  time." 

"Then  we  must  examine  the  cheque-book  at  once," 
said  Harry. 

Jack  soon  had  his  cheque-book  before  him. 

"  It  looks  all  right,"  said  Jack.  "  Here's  the  last  cheque 
that  I  drew. " 

"Go  through  it,  Jack,"  said  the  more  thoughtful  Harry. 

Jack  soon  discovered  several  cheques  had  been  ab- 
stracted. 

"What  can  this  mean,  Harry?"  cried  Jack,  aghast; 
"  who  has  done  it  ? " 

"Do  your  suspicions  rest  on  anyone,  Jack?" 

"No." 

****** 

"I  tell  you  what,  Jack,"  said  Harry,  "we  can't  trace 
it  now,  that  is  as  clear  as  daylight.  But  the  first  step  is 
to  write  home." 

"Yes." 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  28l 

"Note  down  the  numbers  of  the  stolen  cheques." 

This  was  done. 

"Now,  in  addition  to  this,  write  home  that  every  cheque 
you  draw  in  future  will  bear  some  mark  or  sign  in  addi- 
tion to  your  signature." 

"  Good, "  said  Jack.      "  I'll  put  your  initials— H.  G." 

"That  will  do  as  well  as  any  thing  else." 

' '  Now  then  to  write  home. " 

The  robbery  of  the  cheques  had  been  cunningly  con- 
trived. 

They  never  suspected  the  real  culprits. 

But  the  numbers  of  the  cheques  being  sent  home, 
nothing  was  easier  than  to  trace  them. 

Each  cheque  reached  the  London  bankers  with  several 
endorsements  which  would  enable  them  to  go  right  back 
to  the  original  negotiator  of  it  in  Spain. 

There  was  a  chance  then  of  the  crime  being  punished. 
We  shall  see  the  result. 

****** 

The  vessel  made  no  more  stoppages  of  any  importance 
until  they  came  to  a  port  not  a  thousand  miles  from 
Lagos. 

Here  they  cast  anchor. 

"  I  know  the  English  consul  here,"  said  Captain  Deer- 
ing,  "  and  he  is  a  man  of  some  distinction.  He  is  likely 
to  stand  well  enough  with  the  pasha  to  make  matters 
pretty  comfortable  for  us  while  we  stay  here. " 

"That  sounds  like  business,  Captain  Deering,"  said 
Jack.  "  I  should  like  to  go  over  the  place." 

"The  pasha  is  sure  to  invite  us.  The  only  one  word 
of  recommendation  I  have  to  offer  you,  Mr.  Harkaway, 
is  that  no  mention  be  made  of  the  harem." 

"Why?" 

' '  The  subject  is  tabooed,  according  to  Turkish  etiquette." 

' '  Oh.  crikey  !  what  fun  we  could  have  among  'em,  then, " 
said  Jack. 

"And  they  might  have  fun  with  you,"  replied  Captain 
Deering,  significantly. 

"What  sort?" 

"  They  have  various  diversions  with  the  too  curious," 
returned  the  skipper.  "  Bowstringing  is  a  favourite  pas* 
time,  impaling  is  another." 

"And  so  we  can't  see  the  harem  ? ''  said  Jack, 


282  YOUNG  JA CK  HARKA  WA  Y  AND 

"Not  only  can't  see  it,  but  you  must  not  mention  it" 

"That  is  the  most  unlucky  thing  of  all." 

"I  was  wrong  in  saying  you  could  not  see  it.  You 
can  see  the  outside  of  it.  There,  that  large  window, 
before  which  dangles  a  palm-leaf  mat  as  a  sunblind, 
right  upon  the  edge  of  the  water — that  is  the  saloon, 
answering  to  the  drawing-room,  in  which  the  beauties  of 
the  seraglio  assemble. " 

"I  should  like  to  have  a  peep,"  said  Jack,  anxiously. 

The  skipper  pulled  a  precious  long  face. 

"No  nonsense,  Master  Jack,"  said  he,  seriously.  "It 
would  cost  you  your  life. " 

"Rather  a  long  price  to  pay  for  a  peep,  captain." 

"Yes,  Jack,  take  my  advice,  and  do  not  risk  your  life 

by  attempting  to  annoy  the  Turks. " 

*  ***** 

"  Harry,"  said  Jack  some  time  afterwards. 

"  Well,  Jack  ? " 

"Tinker  and  Bogey  are  in  the  boat  already." 

"I'm  afraid  it  is  rather  risky,  Jack,  after  what  Captain 
Deering  said. " 

"Then  don't  come." 

"If  you  are  going." 

"I  am." 

"Then  so  am  I.  Where  you  go,  Jack,  I'll  go.  I  don't 
mind  danger ;  I  don't  quite  think  it  right  to  rush  into  it 
for  sheer  foolery,  but  I'm  blowed  if  you  shall  go  alone. " 

"Stow  your  palaver  then,"  said  Jack,  with  a  grin, 
"  and  over  you  go." 

The  old  Harkaway  temper  was  in  him. 

The  spirit  of  adventure  was  too  strong  within  him  to  be 
resisted,  no  matter  what  the  danger  might  be. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  283 


CHAPTER  LVIII. 

A  MOONLIGHT  ADVENTURE  AFLOAT — THE  BLACK  BOATMEN  AND 
THEIR  MYSTERIOUS  CARGO A  SACK  FOR  A  COFFIN THE  AS- 
SASSINATION  THE  DEATH-CRY TINKER  THE  AVENGER HOW 

HE    SET    TO    WORK RETREAT. 

IT  was  a  bright  moonlight  night,  so  they  resolved  to  go 
ashore. 

Tinker  and  Bogey  rowed,  pulling  hard,  and  Jack  steered, 
while  Harry  Gird  wood  stood  up  in  the  boat,  and  gave  all 
the  necessary  directions. 

"Let's  make  for  the  creek  up  beside  that  palace,"  said 
he,  pointing  to  a  dark  inlet  on  the  right ;  "that's  our  best 
chance." 

"  Hush  !  " 

They  rested  awhile  upon  their  oars  in  silence,  for  from 
the  pasha's  palace  came  a  warning  sound. 

A  gong  sounded  in  the  distance,  then  came  the  grating 
of  a  heavy  gate,  and  forth  from  the  creek  came  a  boat. 

Now  in  this  boat  were  two  men,  turbaned  black  fellows 
of  sinister  aspect,  who  were  bringing  a  strange-looking 
burthen  out  to  sea. 

In  the  boat  was  a  sack,  filled  to  the  neck  with  some- 
thing which  riveted  their  attention,  in  spite  of  its  outline 
being  so  confused  and  indistinct. 

"What's  that  they  have  in  the  sack?  "  whispered  Harry 
Girdwood., 

"Hush!" 

"They  don't  see  us." 

The  palace  cast  such  a  black  shadow  in  the  strong 
moonlight,  that  where  our  friends  were  in  their  boat,  they 
were  almost  invisible. 

Their  presence  was  unsuspected  by  the  newcomers, 
who  pulled  out  into  the  open,  and  then  proceeded  to 
complete  the  object  of  their  journey. 

They  shipped  their  oars,  and  each  took  an  end  of  their 
strange  burden. 

Then  on  a  given  signal  the  sack  was  hoisted  up,  and • 

A  piercing  shriek  rent  the  air. 


YOUNG  JA  CK  HARK  A  WAY  AND 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  direction  from  whence  ft 
came — the  sack. 

"  Did  you  hear  that  ? " 
"Yes." 

"  What  does  it  mean,  Jack  ?  "  whispered  Harry. 

Jack's  answer  was  a  single  word,  but  expressive. 

"  Murder !." 

"  I  believe  it  is. " 

"What  shall  we  do?" 

"We  could  never  save  the  poor  wretch,  whatever  we 
did,  and  we  should  only  get  into  trouble  uselessly." 

"Hush!" 

Another  shriek,  louder  than  before. 

A  muttered  curse  or  two  came  from  the  boat  where  the 
tragedy  was  being  enacted. 

The  sack  was  hoisted  up,  and  then  pushed  over  the 
boat's  side. 

A  dull,  heavy  splash. 

All  was  over. 

A  creepy,  crawly  feeling  seized  the  occupants  of  the 
boatload  of  spectators  of  this  crime,  and  Harry  Girdwood 
shivered  as  he  said  in  a  whisper — 

"  It  sounded  like  a  woman's  voice,  I  thought." 

"So  did  I,"  replied  Jack  ;  "  but  you  could  hardly  tell, 
muffled  as  the  voice  was." 

"Murdered  a  gal,  "quoth  Tinker,  "  I'seoff,  Massa  Jack, 
to  Charlestown  after  'em." 

"  Brave  Tinker  !  "  cried  Jack,  "  you  can  do  little  good. " 

But  as  he  spoke,  Tinker  dropped  over  into  the  water. 

He  shot  down  under  the  water,  and  struck  out  at  a 
great  pace  for  the  boat  containing  the  assassins. 

He  was  alongside  of  it  in  a  crack,  just  as  the  two 
coloured  villains  in  the  boat  put  out  the  oars  again  to  row 
back. 

He  made  a  sudden  grab  at  the  nearest  of  the  oars,  and 
wrested  it  out  of  the  rower's  hand. 

Then,  before  the  two  could  recover  from  their  surprise, 
he  sprang  at  the  edge  of  the  boat,  and  jerking  on  it  with 
his  whole  weight,  over  it  went. 

The  next  instant  all  three  were  scrambling  in  the  water 
together. 

The  assassins  raised  a  terrible  hubbub,  that  soon  brought 
assistance  from  the  palace. 


HIS  BOY  TINKER.  285 

Lights  were  seen  flashing  to  and  fro,  and  an  alarm  gong 
was  heard  beating. 

"Jack." 

' '  What  now  ?  " 

"  Sharp's  the  word." 

"  Good." 

"Where's  Tinker?" 

"  I  don't  know.     We  must  wait  for  him." 

"Yes;  if  we  don't,  he'd  be  bowstrung  before  many 
hours  are  over." 

"Unless  he  is  lucky  enough  to  get  drowned." 

"Tinker,  hallo!  " 

"  Hist !     Tinker,  Tinker,"  cried  Harry  Girdwood. 

The  young  negro's  lithe  form  was  soon  seen  shooting, 
eel-like,  through  the  water,  and  soon  he  was  dragged  inter 
the  boat 

"Tinker,  you  vagabond,  you've  ruined  all,"  said  Jack. 

"Yes,  sar. " 

"And  as  soon  as  we  get  back,  I'm  going  to  have  you 
tied  up,  and  give  you  a  dozen." 

"Cakes,  sir?  " 

"No,  lashes." 

"Golly!"  cried  the  negro,  "that's  luck  for  dis  chile. 
What's  I  been  doing  ?  " 

"You  have  spoilt  one  of  the  best  adventures  we  could 
have  had." 

"  And  I  spile  them  vagabond's  beauty,  sar.  No  vi'lence, 
sar  ;  Tinker  only  rub  the  boat's  scull  agin  the  nigger's 
skull — rader  hard,  sar,  like,  and,  oh  golly  !  Massa  Hark- 
away,  you  should  heerd  'em  squirm  and  squeal. " 

"  I  did,  and  so  did  they  hear  them  in  the  palace.  The 
game's  up  for  to-night,  and  all  through  you.  We  must 
try  again  to-morrow." 

Tinker  sulked. 

"  I  thought  you  allus  liked,   Massa  Harkaway,  to  pay 
out  dem  dam  catawampus,  thundering,  immense  thieves, 
sar.      I  should  like  to  spifflicate  de  whole  bilin',  sar." 
'  Did  they  see  you  ?  " 

'  Dey  too  frightened,  sar, "  grinned  the  darkey. 
'  What  could  they  have  taken  you  for  ?  "  Tinker. 
'De  debil,"  suggested  Bogey,  promptly. 
'Very    likely,"    said    Jack.       "Tinker's    not    unlike 
him." 


*86     YOUNG  JACK  HARKAWAY  AND  -HIS  BOY  TINKER. 

"Well,  sar,  you  ought  to  know;  I  don't  keep  sich 
company  myself,  sar,  and  can't  say." 

The  boats  from  the  palace  were  seen  issuing  from  the 
water-gate  at  the  side,  with  lanterns  at  the  bow  of  each 
boat;  so  the  adventurous  party  pulled  back  as  fast  as 
possible  to  the  ship,  deferring  the  visit  till  next  day, 
then  to  make  it  in  a  more  regular  if  less  exciting  manner. 

The  continuation  of  "Jack  Harkaway  and  His  Boy 
Tinker"  is  found  in  "Jack  Harkaway 's  Boy  Tinker 
Among  the  Turks"  and  may  be  had  from  your  dealer 
or  from  the  publishers  of  this  book  upon  receipt  of 
75  cents. 


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